


Flashback

by city_of_dreams



Category: Breaking Bad
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-30
Updated: 2017-09-23
Packaged: 2017-12-25 03:29:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 43,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/948105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/city_of_dreams/pseuds/city_of_dreams
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jesse is somehow transformed into a child. How will he and Walt deal with it?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I usually post on FF.net but after recently discovering this website, I decided to post it here as well. 
> 
> As the current seasons of BrBa is really killing me emotionally, I decided to write something a little lighter... Feedback is immensely appreciated!

Walt wasn't sure what to expect when he drove over to Jesse's house. The text message had been vague. " _need ur help. can u come over_?" it read. After staring at it for a minute, Walt had hesitantly responded, " _With what_?" and realized how quickly he called into question whether Jesse truly needed help. After all, there had been far from urgent moments that had elicited panicked phone calls and cries from Jesse. Being a text message in itself made the claim of needing help suspicious.

" _Please_ ," was Jesse's immediate response, which caused Walt to reconsider. Please was not a word he commonly heard from his young friend.

With a sigh he responded, " _OK_."

After all, he couldn't admit to having much more going on that day. It was a staggeringly hot New Mexico day, and with the lab closed for three days on account of the laundromat undergoing its annual pesticide fumigation, there was no cooking. Having also been a particular agitated week with Skyler, Walt had resigned himself to the air conditioning of his condo with a solo marathon of James Bond movies on cable TV. He could certainly momentarily break from that to see what Jesse needed.

Help with what what? he wondered as he drove to the young man's house. Helping Jesse could mean a variety of things, and the consideration of some possibilities made Walt wonder if he should have pressed further or even simply said no rather than agreeing to go see him. The kid was sometimes a magnet for trouble, and handling trouble was usually not one of his strong suits.

When he arrived, he parked in the street and walked up to the house to knock on the door. The heat of the day felt like a heavy weight on his shoulder, and he could feel a trickle of sweat start to form on his brow. He wiped it away and knocked again on the door after a moment passed.

When the knock went unanswered again, Walt grew frustrated. He put his hand on the knob and turned it, finding it unlocked. He slowly opened the door.

"Jesse?" he called out as he let himself in. The TV was on and he looked across the room. The couch was empty, the room still. There was an empty open pizza box sitting on the coffee table and a few beer bottles. He shut the door behind him.

Where the hell was Jesse?

"Jesse?" walked across the room and briefly went to look in the kitchen, also empty. On his way back to the living room, he suddenly eyed a small child coming down the stairs. He looked to be around six years old and was wearing nothing but an oversized blue t-shirt that hung down to his knees. His legs were bare.

"Mr. White," the child spoke in a small, tentative voice. His hand gripped the banister of the stairs and he looked frightened.

Walt looked the child over with a frown and his eyes drifted up the stairs. He started to approach him. "Where's Jesse? Who are you?" The child stayed in place, hand still gripping to the banister. Walt began to walk up the stairs, but the boy grabbed the edge of his shirt.

"Mr. White," he said again. "It's me."

Walt turned, staring at the small hand clutching at his shirt. He looked at the child once again and suddenly felt a sinking feeling. The blue eyes, the hair, face… Though cherubic and innocent, the features were intensely familiar, and he suddenly started to understand.

"What do you mean, it's you," he began, tone flat. This was impossible. This was some kind of practical joke. Or was this some weird kind of dream? He resisted the urge to pinch himself. It had to be a joke. Jesse had found some child, maybe it was a family-member, who looked like him, and he was playing some kind of joke.

"I don't know what happened," the child began, his voice shaking slightly. Walt realized that despite the higher, childish pitch, it was Jesse's voice. The tone, the way he spoke. It was definitely Jesse's.

If this was a joke, he was going to kill him. This wasn't funny. This was weird. Like a scene out of Twilight Zone. Not to mention it was chemically impossible, so it had to be a trick.

"This is a joke," Walt began. "I don't know what you-"

"It's not a joke," the child pleaded, with a edge that sounded too much like Jesse. "Fuck, Mr. White. I don't know what happened. It's not a joke."

Walt was frozen for a moment. Then he reached down and took the child under the arms, effortlessly lifting him up to be face to face. He studied his babyish features, trying to understand. "This is impossible..." he said slowly.

"Yeah, apparently not." The boy squirmed in his hold, wrinkling his face in discomfort. He pushed his hands out against Walt's chest. "Yo, put me down, Mr. White. Don't pick me up."

Walt planted him back on the floor and shook his head, dumbfounded. He walked back over to the couch and sank into it slowly. "I don't understand… This is…"

"You gotta help, Mr. White," little Jesse followed him to the couch, climbing up on the cushion next to him. His legs dangled above the floor. "I knew you wouldn't believe me if I told you on the phone. What do I do?"

Walt stared at the television for a moment, and then reached for the remote on the coffee table to turn it off. He turned to the kid, feeling a bit dazed. His chest felt tight. "Start from the beginning."

"I don't know what the beginning is," Jesse insisted. He looked like he was going to cry. He rubbed his hands over his face distractedly and then sighed. "Last night I smoked a bowl. I-" He cut himself off when he saw Walt's disapproving frown. "Look, no lectures, man. I'm just putting it out there. I smoked, and it was… I don't know… I did feel kind of weird after… But then I just went to bed."

"And?" Walt persisted. Having a six year discussing 'smoking a bowl' was disturbing but tried to remind himself it was really Jesse in there.

"And I woke up like this!" Jesse exclaimed, voice high and strained. "I woke up and literally fell out of my fucking bed because I didn't know I was only only three feet tall!" He took a deep breath and continued. "And at first I thought maybe I was still high and maybe it was just like a bad trip or something but now it's… it's like in the afternoon and…" His voice wavered. "But, you see me like I see me, right, Mr. White?"

"Yes…" Walt responded slowly. "You're… Well, it's impossible, really. Biologically and chemically impossible, but… Yes."

"So how do I get back?" Jesse insisted. "I don't want to stay like this."

Walter swallowed, trying to get his thoughts straight. With big, imploring blue eyes, Jesse was staring at him in that way he always did when he was actually looking for guidance. When he thought Walt would know the right answer or a solution to a situation. But this was not a typical situation with an evident answer...

"What do we do, Mr. White?" Jesse asked. "Talk to me. Please."

"I…. I don't know…" Walt responded. "Honestly, Jesse… It's… It's just not physically possible."

"But I can get back, right? Like it'll reverse?" Jesse's voice started to waver.

Walt hesitated. How would he know the answer to that? He'd never heard of anything like this. "Of course," he said anyway. That gut instinct to pacify Jesse outweighed his scientific refusal to accept what was in front of him. "Of course it will."

Jesse looked relieved by Walt's response and exhaled. "How long will it take?"

"That I don't know," Walt admitted. For once he felt somewhat helpless and ignorant. "All we can do is wait and see…" He tried to make his tone sound more sure than he felt.

Jesse leaned back against the couch cushion and squeezed his eyes closed. "Wait and see…" he echoed.

Walt studied him. He was so little. So… innocent? He had to admit that Jesse was a pretty cute kid. He tried to determine his age. Jesse was always a bit on on the small side. "How old are you?"

Jesse opened his eyes and glared at Walt with the face of a disgruntled child. "I'm twenty-"

"No," Walt interrupted. "Not your real age. How old do you think you are right now?"

"Mr. White, I don't know. I'm still the same age," Jesse argued.

"Maybe six or so. This is… unbelievable." Walt paused. Despite the appearance, there was no denying that it was somehow really Jesse. Behind the blue eyes, he could see that. So what did they do now? He had to make some kind of plan. He tried to push all the disbelief out of his head. Focus on the current moment.

He reached over and tugged on Jesse's oversized t-shirt. "So considering all of your clothing was already too big for you, I assume you want some new clothes."

Jesse continued to frown, brow furrowed. "Yeah."

"Okay. So that's step one."

"And Mike called me three times today. I haven't answered."

"Then don't answer," Walt responded.

"He's going to get mad. What do we do?"

"Well, hopefully you're back to normal before the lab reopens…" Walt started. "Let me try to get some clothes for you. All of Walt Jr.'s clothes are in the attic. I'm sure I can find something to fit you."

"What if I don't go back to normal?" Jesse asked quietly, voice shaky. "What if I'm stuck like this?"

"I already told you that it will reverse," Walt answered firmly. "We just have to wait for that to happen." He watched child Jesse's lower lip start to tremble. "Jesse, don't get upset."

Jesse sniffled. "I don't know what to do."

"You're fine." Walt reached over to squeeze the small leg of his friend. "You'll see. You'll be back to normal soon." He stood up from the couch and took a deep breath. He didn't know why the lies came so easily. He had no idea what was going to happen. But he knew Jesse would lose it if he showed any indication of his own worry. "I'll be back soon. I…" He hesitated for a moment. Jesse was still sniffling. "Can I leave you alone? I wouldn't leave a six year old alone."

"I'm an adult, Mr. White," Jesse snapped, voice rising in irritation. He wiped at his eyes.

Walt eyed the child on the couch with a sigh. "Fine. Just… Don't do anything. Don't go anywhere. If something changes in the meantime, call me."

Jesse crossed his arms over his chest. He sniffed again. "How long will you be gone?"

"Not long," Walt assured. With that he headed towards the door, cursing silently in his head.

* * *

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to those that left feedback - it really is appreciated. Suggestions are welcome as well. Again, this is my kind of AU from the current season... :)
> 
> \------------

Walt returned to Jesse’s house forty-five minutes later with a garbage bag of assorted clothes from his attic and a bag from Walmart. Thankfully, the house had been empty since Skyler was at the car wash. He didn’t know how he would have explained a sudden need to dig up their son’s clothes from ten years ago. On the chance that she had been there, he did come up with some mentally prepared quick excuses, like donating the clothes to charity, but knew any explanation he could come up with would be met with suspicion and scrutiny. 

While he was gone, he hoped that he would get a relieved call from Jesse or a text message saying that everything was back to normal. He didn’t know how long this seemingly improbable situation could last, but he earnestly hoped that it was very temporary.

Jesse at twenty-five was a handful. Jesse at six years old? He didn’t even want to consider the possibilities. 

Why was there always trouble when it came to Jesse? 

Against his hope but true to his expectation, the call that things were back to normal never came, and he found himself back at Jesse’s house. 

This time, he didn’t bother knocking and instead let himself in through the front door. He turned to view the room as he pushed the door shut behind him and stopped dead in his tracks when he saw the scene in front of him.

Mike.

Walt’s hands tightly clenched down on the two bags he carried, and he set his jaw, preparing himself for confrontation. What the hell was Mike doing here? Jesse had mentioned him calling, but… 

The older man rose from the couch slowly, smoothing down the front of his gray button down shirt. His expression was typically stoic. “Walter,” he spoke slowly, voice deep and monotone. “We have a problem.”

Walt took a few steps forward into the room until he could see child Jesse still sitting on the couch. His head was bowed, eyes cast downward. “Jesse,” he began. 

Jesse looked up at his name, turning his head to view him. His brow was furrowed, creased in worry. At the same time the look in his eyes, slightly red-rimmed, was irritation. 

“Are you okay?” Walt asked. 

“Okay?” Jesse echoed incredulously. The higher voice was laced with Jesse’s typical flippant tone. He fidgeted uncomfortably on the couch. “No, I’m not okay. I’m still a fucking midget.”

“He’s fine,” Mike responded evenly, sending Jesse a warning look. “For a child with the mind of a twenty year old junkie that is.” Jesse lowered his gaze again to his lap. Mike then met Walt’s eye. “Now what the hell is going on?” 

“I’m still twenty-five,” Jesse mumbled. 

“Kid, whatever age you’re supposed to be, you damn well aren’t that age right now, so shut your trap,” Mike responded stiffly. “Walter. What is going on?”

“How the hell do you think I know? And what are you doing here anyway, Mike?” Walt placed his bags on the ground. 

Mike sighed. “The kid knows the consequences of not answering my calls.”

“You wouldn’t’ve believe me,” Jesse mumbled under his breath.

Mike turned to view him with a cautioning gaze. “Anyway. When I naturally stopped by, needless to say, I did not expect to find this.”

Walt tried to gauge the man’s reaction. As usual Mike’s face was etched in stone, as though designed for life’s poker game. “And for some reason you think I expected this?” Walter responded. He found himself irritated at Mike’s presence. Already things were difficult to deal with without involving a third party. Ideally, the less people that knew about it, the better. 

“Well, the kid here mentioned that you told him this … situation … would reverse. Now, how the hell would you know that if you had nothing to do with it?” 

I don’t know that, Walt wanted to respond in exasperation, but he stopped himself. Jesse was again looking at him intently with those blue eyes, and he wanted to avoid retracting any of the statements he’d made to calm him down earlier. The last thing they needed was anyone overreacting. What was the appropriate reaction anyway? 

“It has to reverse,” Walt responded assuredly instead. He waved his arm towards Jesse. “This is not Jesse. Well, it is Jesse, of course, but--”

“Of course?” Mike objected. “Listen, Walter. I don’t know what this is. Is it really Jesse?”

“Yes, it’s Jesse!” Jesse exclaimed in exasperation. 

Walt and Mike both regarded Jesse briefly before turning back to each other. 

I don’t know what this is either, Walt thought to himself. “It’s obviously Jesse,” he said stiffly. “Moving past that, we can’t say why or how this happened… But it happened.”

“I don’t know what kind of experiments you guys have going on in that lab of yours…” Mike’s voice became slightly suspicious.

Lab of mine? Walt thought bitterly. Yeah, right. Like anything in that lab would be considered his property. Gus had gone above and beyond to ensure the upper hand in their working relationship. He had surveillance, he had checks in the process, measurements. If any materials were amiss, someone would know. 

“This has nothing to do with the lab,” Walt replied with a edge to his tone. 

“Nothing? Then how the hell is this possible?”

It’s not possible, Walt thought wryly. 

“Look, your conversation is interesting and all,” Jesse began, rubbing his hands over his face impatiently, “but can we skip the arguing and bullshit and do something about this already?”

“Do something like what, Kid?” Mike demanded, turning to face him. “You wanna tell me where the magic wand is that transformed you?”

“What if we, like, google it or something?” Jesse suggested, shrugging his shoulders. 

“Google? Sure. Google it.” Mike let out an exasperated breath and turned back to Walt. “So, no comments, Walter?”

“I’m not sure what you want me to say,” Walt responded. “If you think I know what caused this or that I expected this, then you’re grossly misinformed. I was just as surprised as you. Jesse called me, and here I am. There is no chemical or biological explanation for this.”

“And this isn’t a joke.”

“Trust me. I wish it were a joke. I wish I had some technical explanation for how this was possible. But I don’t.”

Mike sighed and looked over at Jesse once again. “Well, whatever this is, I think we can agree that it’s mutually beneficial to us if our boss doesn’t find out about it. He doesn’t need any more reasons not to trust the two of you.”

“The lab is closed until Wednesday.”

Mike raised his eyebrows at Walt. “And after Wednesday?”

“Hopefully this will reverse by Wednesday.”

“Hopefully?” Jesse echoed incredulously. “What do you mean hopefully, Mr. White? You said this would reverse soon.”

“It will, Jesse,” Walt appeased, trying to sound confident. “It will reverse. Probably within the next twenty-four hours, but-”

“Within the next twenty-hour hours?” Mike repeated skeptically. “And just how do you know that? You just admitted you have no explanation for this. ”

Shut up, Mike, he wanted to hiss. Jesse was already starting to look apprehensive again, and Walt simply stuck with his story. “It will reverse soon,” he answered. “If we’re just patient, this will be over before we know it.” 

“Patient,” Mike repeated. “Dealing with the two of you requires superhuman patience...”

Walt was about to respond but abruptly cut himself off as he caught movement from Jesse out of the corner of his eye. He turned to view Jesse in time to see him with one of the beer bottles from the coffee table in his hand. “Jesse!” he snapped. 

Jesse took a long swig of the probably warm beer and swallowed, making a face. “What?” 

Exasperated, Walt walked over and physically removed the bottle from Jesse’s hand. “Stop it.”

“Hey!” Jesse objected. As he reached back up for the glass bottle, Walt slapped his hand away sharply. “Ow!” Jesse cried, cradling his arm to his chest. “Yo- What gives, Mr. White?” He scowled and leaned back into the couch away from him. 

“No drinking. No drugs.” Walt spoke stiffly. “Not while you’re like this. No smoking either.” 

“Are you insane?” Jesse glared at him. “I’m-”

“Enough. Those are the rules, Jesse,” Walt interrupted. He turned to Mike, who appeared amused, and took a few steps back towards him. “Anything else, Mike? Because if you don’t mind-”

“So that’s it?” Mike shook his head. “What are you implying the next steps are, Walter? Just twiddle our thumbs?”

Walt tried to keep his tone patient. “There are no next steps other than waiting. Let’s see what the next twenty-four hours brings. Jesse will stay with me until-”

“Wait, what?” Jesse demanded. “Fuck that, Mr. White. I’m not-”

“You’re staying with me.” Walter could feel his patience starting to wear thin. Between Mike’s patronizing accusations and Jesse’s seemingly heightened insolence, not to mention the current scientifically impossible situation itself, he felt his blood pressure continue to rise. In every other seemingly ‘impossible’ situation in the past, he was able to rationalize or improvise a solution. This time the best he could come up with is wait and see. 

“I am not.” Jesse’s voice was stubborn and Walt noticed with annoyance that he was pouting. 

“Unless you have any other suggestions?” Walt continued, turning his attention back to Mike, whose expression remained sour. “Because if you do, then by all means, enlighten us.”

“All I know,” Mike replied, “is that the boss better not find out. That’s all I’ve gotta say. Did you call Saul?”

“No,” Walt admitted. “Not yet.” What would Saul be able to offer? He found it hard to believe that Saul could offer more than what his knowledge of science had to offer. 

“Might as well,” Mike said with a sigh. “That bastard’s had a lot of whackjobs come through his shop. You never know.”

Walt resisted the temptation to roll his eyes. 

“You mean he might be able to fix this?” Jesse asked with a hopeful twinge to this voice. 

“Yes, Jesse,” Walt answered sarcastically. “Better call Saul. For bail bonds, legal representation, and time travel.”

“Hey, fuck you, Mr. White,” Jesse snapped. His made a face. “You don’t have to be such a dick, you bitch.”

Walt was surprised to hear Mike chuckling beside him and turned to see that the man had an amused smirk on his face. 

When he caught Walt’s glance, Mike shrugged. “It’s kind of entertaining,” he admitted. “Hearing that kind of garbage come out of… him.” He gestured at Jesse.

The comment seemed to incite Jesse even more. “Oh yeah?” he retorted, sliding off the couch to stand barefoot on the wood floor. He crossed his arms over his chest and glared at them. “Is it entertaining? Well, ha fucking ha. Get out.” He pointed at the door. “Both of you.” 

At that point Mike’s chuckle turned into a legitimate laugh. 

“Get out!” Jesse yelled now, his voice strained. 

Walt felt a pang of sympathy for the kid for a moment. He was obviously frustrated and confused by the events. Not to mention terrified of what it meant or its permanence. He was in a vulnerable state, and while he had invited Walt over in fear, Mike was an added factor. It couldn’t be easy to hold his own in his current state with two men standing in front of him who he normally would hesitate to challenge on a normal day. 

“Calm down, Jesse,” Walt said gently. “No one is teasing you. This situation is just bizarre for all of us. That’s all. None of us know how to react.”

“No - it’s mostly bizarre for me!” Jesse cried. “And now I want you both to leave.” Jesse’s voice, while adamant, shook slightly. “Just get the hell out.”

“While I’d like to ask you how you would make me leave,” Mike responded slowly with another chuckle. “I…” He trailed off as Jesse turned from them and irritably walked away, towards the kitchen. He disappeared around the corner. 

“Look,” Mike turned to Walt. “I get it, we wait. There’s nothing else to do. But Walter… Just watch him.”

“Thanks for the advice,” Walt answered stiffly, “but I think we’re fine.”

“You’re not fine,” Mike answered calmly. “It is what it is. The kid though. He can be… reckless. Whatever you call it. Don’t leave him alone.”

Walt didn’t miss the clear insinuation that Mike had some sort of charge over Jesse. Whether he truly cared or had some other agenda, Walt wasn’t completely sure. Why a straightedge mercenary type like Mike would feel protective over Jesse never sat right with him. And he bristled at the fact Mike felt he needed to give him advice on the kid.

“If anyone is familiar with Jesse’s behavior, I think it’s me,” Walt answered stiffly. 

Mike nodded briefly. “That’s fair,” he conceded. “And your suggestion he stay with you. Do it. Kicking or screaming.” 

It was probably one of the few times they agreed on anything, Walt mused. He kept his face expressionless. “We’ll let you know if anything changes.” He hesitated and then stuck out his hand. 

Mike took his hand and shook. With that he turned to leave.

Walt started towards the kitchen, hearing the front door open and shut. When he entered the room, he glanced around, even looked behind the island, and saw no one. “Jesse?” he called out. 

He observed that the kitchen was a mess. There were more pizza boxes, dirty plates piled in the sink, empty cereal boxes. He walked over to pull open the refrigerator and shook his head at the contents. Ketchup, beer, a Chinese food container, and a carton of milk. He reached in to take the cap off the milk and before he could even bring it to his nose the sour stench met him and he noticed the consistency of the liquid. 

Really, Jesse? he thought. 

As he put the milk back, he heard the front door open again and then slam shut before the sound of some kind of commotion in the other room. Alarmed, he quickly pushed the refrigerator door closed and hurried back inside. 

 

\----

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

Walt re-entered the living room to find Mike had returned to the house, now holding a squirming Jesse under his arm. Within seconds of Walt entering the room, Mike purposefully dropped Jesse and the kid hit the wood floor with a yelp.

“What’s going on?” Walt demanded. 

“Look who I found,” Mike began dryly, looking up to view Walt with a scowl, “trying to drive his car.”

Walt barely had time to react when he saw Mike toss something his way. He caught Jesse’s keys as they flew towards him and let out a deep breath. Driving? He tried to process his thoughts as he looked over in time to see Jesse crawl to his feet and attempt to scramble away from Mike.

Mike quickly grabbed Jesse by the arm and held him in place. “Listen, Kid,” he began, crouching down to get himself on Jesse’s level. He yanked him closer to him. “Are you crazy or just stupid?"

Jesse leaned away from him, pulling at his arm, but Mike kept an iron grip. 

"I'm going to guess just stupid," Mike continued. "Assuming you could actually drive the car, and that's a big assumption, you want to know what would've happened? If you didn't crash and kill yourself first, then you'd be picked up by the first cop you passed. You think that would've worked out well for you?"

"Let go," Jesse responded, continuing to try to pull away. 

"Answer me. You think that would've worked out well? Huh? You think that would've been a good idea?" 

"Let. Go." Jesse tone became more insistent. 

"You’re pushing all the wrong buttons right now, Kid," Mike persisted, voice growing stiffer. "I get it- you’re frustrated. But let’s stop being stupid."

"This is stupid," Jesse snapped. He pushed against Mike's arm. "Let go of me."

"You know me - I’m a traditional guy.” Mike let go of Jesse's arm and grabbed him by the waist instead. He shook him slightly. “You keep pushing my buttons, and you’re going to end up over my knee, you understand? And trust me when I say you don't want that. ”

A look of surprise flashed across Jesse’s face. Then it was replaced by contempt. “I’m not a child,” he said, voice rising.

“Right now you are," Mike answered rigidly. "And that’s how you’re acting, so that’s how I’m going to treat you. So it's your choice. Understand?”

Jesse glared down at the floor, setting his jaw and remaining silent.

Mike shook him again. "Understand?" he repeated. When Jesse begrudgingly nodded, Mike pushed him away with some force, and Jesse stumbled back, falling onto the floor. "Good. So shut up, and start listening." 

Mike straightened and stood up to his full height. “I hope your friend Walter has more patience,” he said with an edge to his tone. Jesse remained seated on the floor and glared at Mike as the man spoke. “I'm going to do you a favor and leave before I do something I'll regret...” He cleared his throat. “Walter, I'll leave him to you. I have handcuffs in my car if you think you might need them.”

“No,” Jesse objected, looking up in alarm from the floor.

“If you could be trusted,” Mike responded irritably, “then I wouldn’t consider offering.” He raised his eyebrows at Walt. “I’m serious.” 

“Handcuffs aren’t necessary,” Walt responded, shaking his head.

“I think you’re going to regret that decision,” Mike responded. “Don’t forget I offered.” He shot Jesse another pointed look. “Call me when this ridiculous situation changes.” He headed towards the door.

After Mike had slammed the door shut behind him, Walt looked at Jesse and sighed. “Jesse. Get up,” he said.

Jesse didn't move and eyed Walt warily. He swallowed, hesitating slightly before speaking. “I think you should leave too." 

"Jesse." Walt shook his head. "This isn't a discussion. Now get up." 

"I don't wanna stay with you."

"You want to stay with Mike instead?" Walt answered, knowing the answer after the scene that had just played out in front of him. “Because you’re sure as hell not staying alone.”

Jesse shook his head. "No."

"That's what I thought. Get up." 

"I don’t need to be watched, Mr. White.” His voice shook slightly.

“Apparently you do,” Walt answered. “Trying to drive? Really, Jesse? Where exactly were you planning to go?”

“What do you care?” Jesse answered bitterly. “How did he know, anyway?”

“You have impeccable timing,” Walt answered dryly.

“I only turned the car on.”

“And could your feet even reach the pedals?”

Jesse set his jaw. He glared at Walt for a moment and then glanced towards the door. “No,” he admitted.

“You’re not even wearing pants,” Walt responded with a sigh, shaking his head. Unlike Mike, he felt more exasperated than angry. Somehow he wasn’t even surprised by Jesse’s actions. “Think for a minute, Jesse. Do you ever think?”

Jesse remained silent. He glanced down at himself, at the oversized t-shirt, and after a moment, looked back up at Walt. “Yo, whatever, Mr. White. I'm over this. I want this to reverse." 

“I brought you some clothes.” Walt gestured to the bags he had dropped when he first entered the house. He wanted it to reverse too, but that was obviously out of their control. Instead he focused on what they could do. "Get changed and we'll go."

Jesse looked at him for a moment, almost hesitating. "I told you. I don't want to go."

Walt took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Jesse, we can argue about this pointlessly or I can easily make you come with me," he said. He walked over to the two plastic bags on the ground and leaned down to pick them up. "Hopefully some of this fits you." He walked over to Jesse and dropped the bags next to him. 

Jesse eyed the bags and stubbornly crossed his arms over his chest. 

Walt watched him carefully. "Don't make me force you, Jesse." 

Jesse sighed and Walt could tell that he was getting close to giving in, however reluctant. He felt relieved, not in the mood to argue or rationalize with him any more. The one benefit of the situation was that Jesse had little room for negotiation. It came down to the fact that he was physically unable to defy anybody and knew it. Walt hoped Jesse was already fully aware of that without needing any more threats. 

“I… I didn’t know exactly what size you are…” He watched Jesse start to look through the bag. “Just decide what you need,” he said. “And then we’ll go.”

Jesse pulled out a red t-shirt and looked at it skeptically. Then he dug around in the bag again and pulled out a pair of jeans. "Yo, these clothes smell real musty."

"It's been in an attic for years, Jesse. We can do laundry later. The other bag….” Walt continued, "it has shoes, socks, underwear."

Jesse looked up at him with a frown. 

"You know." Walt shrugged. "The types of things we didn't keep." 

"I'm going upstairs," Jesse answered, getting up from the floor and clutching the two bags to his chest. "To change."

"Okay. Hurry up." Walt watched child Jesse head to the stairs. "Essentials only, Jesse. This is one, two days tops." 

"Whatever," Jesse responded as he made his way up the stairs.

Two days tops? Did he really even believe the words that came out of his mouth? He wished he could affirm that this would only last two days. 

Walt glanced at his watch. Four o'clock. He looked around the room, Jesse's home, and thought to himself next steps. What were they going to do if things didn't reverse by Wednesday? He wasn't going to bring Jesse to the lab; that he already knew. It would be too dangerous. The first issue was letting Gus know about the situation, but the second more glaring issue to him was allowing a six year old in the lab. That was simply a bad idea. The safety equipment and mask wouldn't fit him. He wouldn't be able to reach anything, yet would probably try, and Jesse was clumsy enough full grown, never mind with child's hands and coordination. 

If things didn't reverse by then, they would have to simply create a cover story. He would have to cook alone. However, that meant leaving Jesse alone. 

Or with Mike. 

As much as it bothered Walt, twenty-something Jesse liked Mike, and enjoyed interacting with the man. He liked spending time with him, and getting the attention Mike provided. Child Jesse and Mike seemed to be a different dynamic. Child Jesse could offer Mike nothing but aggravation. Despite his threats, Mike would protect him, Walt knew that, but they would likely drive each other crazy. 

The one glaringly obvious decision was that he couldn't leave Jesse alone like this. That he realized could not even be considered. Within seconds behind their backs, wanting to drive? Walt shook his head and realized he still had Jesse's keys in his pocket. He realized that hanging onto them would probably be the best idea. 

Alone, Jesse was at risk to really hurt himself. Not to mention that anything he did in this state could translate into consequences in his adult state. And one thing Jesse never understood were consequences. 

He couldn't say he was looking forward to hosting Jesse at his condo. Jesse had been there enough before, but forcing him to stay there was a different story. Jesse got bored easily, and bored Jesse was … difficult. 

He waited a couple more minutes before walking over to the base of the stairs. How long did it take to put on a pair of pants and grab a couple things for the road? "Jesse!" he called up the stairs. 

"Coming!" came the childish shout back. 

Walt shook his head and glanced at his watch again. Ten minutes of time wasted. 

He was just beginning to consider going upstairs when finally Jesse emerged and came back downstairs with a duffel bag that looked gigantic slung over his thin shoulders. The clothes fit him, at least, though still slightly big on him. The jeans seemed to hang low and loose. 

"Do I really need to go with you, Mr. White?" Jesse began, shifting the weight of the bag on his shoulder uncomfortably. "I'm fine here." 

Walt walked over and took the bag from him. "You already know the answer to that question." 

"Can I at least bring the PlayStation?"

Walt eyed the gaming equipment on the floor by the TV warily. As he opened his mouth to say no, he caught the hopeful look on Jesse's face and realized that the mindless games would probably be a decent way to occupy Jesse. Despite considering the fac he would probably have to sacrifice all control of the television in exchange for less whining, he reluctantly nodded. "Yeah. Sure. Bring the PlayStation."


	4. Chapter 4

“This isn’t the way to your condo.”

Walt wearily eyed Jesse in the rear view mirror from the driver’s seat of his Pontiac Aztec and sighed, tightening his grip on the steering wheel. Despite knowing better, he’d been hoping for a quiet ride back to the condo with just one quick detour… He started to realize that neither ‘quiet’ nor ‘quick’ would be possible. He also started to wonder whether he should have given Jesse a choice about the detour before simply heading that direction. 

“Mr. White.” 

Walt didn’t answer. He considered changing direction and simply heading to the condo to avoid another fight. After all, just being able to pull away from the curb of Jesse’s house had turned into a struggle. That was mostly his fault for suddenly recalling and voicing that legally a six year old should not ride in the front passenger seat. Telling Jesse that he had to sit in the back was immediately met with whining and stubborn refusal. Fortunately after only a few wasted minutes of arguing and a series of empty threats, Jesse eventually accepted that the car was going nowhere until he sat in the back and acquiesced. 

The more he thought about it, Walt was also pretty sure that a child Jesse’s current age wasn’t even supposed to be in a moving car without a car seat… He couldn’t remember if it was based on age or weight. But either way, Jesse was small. Walt decided not to bother mentioning it, knowing Jesse would simply get more upset, and there was nothing they could do about it anyway. 

Though as he now glanced periodically at Jesse in the backseat, he observed how poorly the seatbelt he had insisted he wear actually fit him. The main chest strap of it was already pushed behind him. Laws had changed since Walt. Jr. was this age, and Holly was still at the earliest stages… Walt didn’t know much, but if anything, laws about child safety had gotten stricter…

“Yo, are you listening? This isn’t the way,” Jesse interrupted Walt’s thoughts with the repeated statement, voice insistent. This time the sentence was clearly a complaint, or an accusation, knowing Walt was keeping something from him. 

“We’re stopping somewhere first.” Walt realized his tone was involuntarily curt, and he could also feel his patience was waning. While it was obviously Jesse inside of this child’s body, he was also starting to realize there was a bit of six-year old in Jesse’s personality as well. The whining, especially. Walt knew it was mostly Jesse’s chagrin over his current state but at times it seemed like he was intentionally being difficult. Walt was pushing himself stay even-tempered, but he was growing tired too. 

Jesse was shifting in the back seat now to better see out the window. “So then where are we going?”

Walt glanced in the mirror again to see that Jesse had actually unbuckled the ill-fitting seatbelt and taken it off completely. He now leaned up against the car door, on his knees to see out the window. 

“Sit down, Jesse,” Walt began stiffly. “The last thing I need is to get a ticket for you in my car.”

“Yo, ticket for what? I’m not sitting in the front, so chill,” Jesse responded irritably. He pressed his nose against the window. 

“You’re not restrained and you’re supposed to be.”

“What does that even mean?” 

“It means sit,” Walt answered tersely. “Now.” 

“And wait, I know this road… If you’re taking me to Saul, then-” 

“Then what?” Walt cut him off. While his initial reaction when Mike suggested contacting Saul was admittedly skepticism, he also acknowledged that he had zero concrete facts about this kind of situation, and any additional details, even from Saul, could potentially be useful.

“Why?” Jesse asked. 

“Why not?” Walt looked at him again in the mirror and gripped the steering wheel tighter, knuckles whitening. “For God’s sake, Jesse, stop whining and will you sit down?” 

Jesse finally seemed to sense Walt’s impatience and settled back in his seat with reluctant obedience. “You said it yourself, Mr. White,” he answered, voice small but stiff. “For bail bonds, legal representation, and fucking time travel, right?” He shook his head. “It’s bullshit. Listen, if we go there, he’s gonna make fun of me just like Mike did and-” 

“No one’s making fun of you. He might even know something,” Walt answered, annoyance briefly lifting at Jesse directly quoting something he’d said to him earlier, even if it had been a rebuke. At least this was proof he listened sometimes.

“You didn’t seem to think so before.” 

“I didn’t,” Walt admitted. “But Saul has a lot of… interesting clients,” he continued, briefly pausing at the stop sign in front of him. “He might have dealt with this before.” He shrugged. “And we’re literally minutes away.” 

Walt doubted that Saul had ever seen something like this before. If he himself hadn’t seen or heard of anything like this in his career of science, he found it difficult to believe that a scumbag lawyer could offer much. Though being without any other alternatives, it wasn’t a bad idea to leave no stones unturned. 

Worse case scenario, Saul would offer nothing. And he would probably also laugh at the situation. 

Unfortunately, Walt had already parked outside of Saul’s strip mall office when he admitted to himself that the worse case scenario was also the most likely. 

As if fate had decided to throw them at least one grace, it was one of the few times that Saul’s waiting room was rather empty, and they walked right into his office. 

Saul was on the phone sitting behind his desk when they entered, Walt leading the way with Jesse trailing behind him. He waved them in with a quick gesture of his hand as he wrapped up his phone call. 

“Joe, I know,” he said into the phone, rolling his eyes. “Look, this can wait. And I’ll… Look I have clients here…. And-” He paused, listening. “Okay. Good. Tomorrow then.” 

Saul hung up the phone and pushed back his chair to stand and face Walt and Jesse. “Well, holy shit.” A smile appeared on Saul’s face and he shook his head, eyes on Jesse. “So Mike wasn’t lying after all...”

Jesse expression darkened.

“He already called you?” Walt asked, surprised. He walked over to take a seat on the couch. 

“Yes, he did,” Saul acknowledged, briefly adjusting the purple hankerchief peaking out of the pocket of his suit jacket. “I had to check my calendar to make sure it wasn’t April first. I really thought the old man was just pulling my chain. I mean… Come on. This?” He smirked again at Jesse. Jesse remained standing, a few feet away from Walt. “Not that I’ve ever known that man to crack a smile, never mind make a joke.”

Jesse narrowed his eyes as Saul walked closer to him. 

“I mean, wow, right? Look at you!” Saul exclaimed, incredulous. “So God damn small. Is this Alice in Wonderland or something? Did you fall through the rabbit hole?” He laughed and shook his head. “If only the cartel knew that a kindergartner was cooking meth better than them, am I right?” 

Walt cleared his throat to speak, but before he could get the words out, Jesse acted first, moving forward and landing a direct kick to Saul’s shin. The man cried out with a curse, bowing over in pain, as Jesse quickly distanced himself to the other side of the coffee table.

“Jesse!” Walt berated. He met Jesse’s eye, but Jesse glared at him with an incensed blue stare, accusing him. Yes, Walt thought to himself, glaring back. I brought you here, and I knew this would probably happen. 

Saul was still rubbing at his shin with a scowl on his face. He finally stood straighter, pushing back a few strands of hair that had fallen over his forehead. “Thanks for the bruise, Kid,” he said coarsely. “I see the innocent exterior is just a ruse. You’re still just a little shit, huh?” 

“Look, bitch – If you can’t help, then just say so!” Jesse shot back indignantly. 

“If I can’t help?” Saul echoed. “Kid, I wish I could. But believe it or not this is one of the few things that I’ve never had come through my office before. And that’s saying a lot considering what I’ve had walk through these doors.” 

Jesse’s glare again turned to Walt. 

“What else can I say?” Saul winced again and shifted his leg. “Mike said your plan was to give it a couple days? Well, do that, and then let’s talk. And listen; maybe you actually discovered the fountain of youth in one of your drug-induced hazes. Now if you figure that out, give me a call.” 

Walt watched Jesse silently grow more agitated as Saul continued to be sarcastic and stood up from the couch. “Alright. Thanks, Saul. I think we’re done here.” 

Saul gave Walt a small smile. “If I hear of anything or have any sorcerers walk through my door, I’ll let you know.” He glanced at Jesse and then back at Walt. “And… Good luck.”

\--------

Once they were finally at his condo, Walt dropped Jesse's duffel bag beside the couch and acknowledged that the rest of the night, or day, or next two days, would not be easy. Jesse had been unusually quiet after leaving Saul’s office, which he first found to be a relief, but now realized should be a worry. 

So Saul didn’t have any answers – that shouldn’t have been a surprise. Though hindsight reminded Walt that he’d known that would be the case, and probably should have avoided the trip altogether…

Now Jesse seemed to be sulking by default, and Walt found himself already irritated. 

"So the couch will be your bed," Walt began, keeping his voice as upbeat as he could, masking his frustration. Jesse had spent the night at the condo before, so he wasn't sure why he was explaining what Jesse already knew. He felt the need to fill the silence and try to put some sort of order around the situation. 

"You know I have an actual bed at home," Jesse reminded.

“Yes, I do.”

“And it’s more comfortable than your couch.”

“Your point?” Walt gave Jesse a questioning look, and Jesse responded with willful silence. Walt shrugged in response. “Tell me, Jesse. What would you be doing if you were home right now?”

“Do you ever really care what I do when I’m home?” Jesse answered with his typical tenacity. “Huh, Mr. White? So long as I show up to cook?”

“We’re not cooking tomorrow.” 

“So you shouldn’t care at all,” Jesse muttered. 

Walt tried not to get irritated while watching Jesse climb onto the couch, tucking his sneaker-clad feet under him as he settled. “You’re making this harder than it has to be.”

Jesse sighed and closed his eyes briefly. “Mr. White, I’m only here because I know you would have made me anyway. I don’t want to be here.” 

“And? Are you just going to be difficult simply to be difficult?” Walt answered. “In case you didn’t notice, I’m not exactly thrilled that you’re here either.”

Jesse’s brow furrowed. “So you should have let me stay home.” 

“Whether you want to admit it or not, Jesse, you made it pretty clear that you can’t be left alone.”

“Don’t forget that I’m the one that texted you.”

“And what did you expect, Jesse? When you texted me?”

Jesse eyed him with a look that Walt could only identify as challenging. His young face was looking more and more exasperated. “Whatever, Mr. White. You have to sleep at some point.” 

Walt returned the look without blinking. “Are you implying that the handcuffs would have been a good idea?”

Jesse scowled, letting out a “hmph” of protest at the idea. 

“It’s not too late,” Walt warned. Even knowing that Jesse was making threats out of frustration, he wasn’t going to become too sympathetic. 

“Just fuck off.” Jesse rubbed his hands over his face, leaning back into the couch in pure exhaustion. “For five minutes, just fuck off.” 

Walt decided to move on. Backing Jesse into a corner wouldn’t get him anywhere at the moment. “It’s getting late. What do you want to eat?” 

“Nothing.” Jesse’s voice was mumbled through the hands still over his face. 

Walt sighed, eyeing Jesse with the end of his serenity. Jesse was still a kid at best in his real life. Now he was completely a child, and Walt wasn’t sure what to do if this stretched into more than a day. Walt always had a sense of protectiveness over this idiot that didn’t seem to know, or want, to take care of himself properly, but this was going to stretch limits. 

“Listen,” Walt began, moving towards the couch and settling himself on the coffee table in front of it. Jesse was turning himself towards the couch now, and Walt simply reached forward to take his legs and yank them towards him, shifting Jesse closer and facing him forward, probably rougher than he should have. 

“Hey,” Jesse objected, scowling. 

Walt ignored the protest and took one of Jesse’s ankles in his hand, grasping his sneaker in his other hand, pulling it off. Then he did the same to the next. 

“I can do that,” Jesse persisted, twisting his leg out of Walt’s grip.

“You want to act like a baby, then congratulations,” Walt answered sardonically. “Otherwise, work with me.”

Jesse made a face but stayed silent. 

“Let’s try again. What do you want to eat?” Walt asked.

Jesse studied him, pausing for a moment. Then he slowly said, “I want pizza.”

Walt suddenly remembered Skyler lecturing him about how to deal with children. ‘Offer choice a or b’, she stressed; ‘never give an open question’. He now understood. “You realize I saw how many pizza boxes are at your apartment.” 

“I like pizza. You asked what I wanted.” 

Walt glanced at his watch and then back at Jesse. He let out a deep breath. “Fine.”

\------ 

Especially in recent months, Walt never slept well. His mind was filled with the ‘what-if’s’ of his occupation among thoughts of his own mortality. 

The sudden noise, a crash or bang, that night probably would have woken him regardless of the sleep stage he was in.


	5. Chapter 5

Especially in recent months, Walt never slept well. His mind was constantly filled with the ‘what-if’s’ of his occupation among thoughts of his own mortality. The thoughts seemed to be particularly prevalent while he lay in bed alone. 

While he hadn’t been sleeping well, the sudden noise, a crash, that night probably would have woken him regardless of the sleep stage he was in.

The earlier part of the evening had been uneventful as television and pizza delivery provided a needed distraction. Despite mostly silence between them while they ate, Walt started to almost appreciate the presence of Jesse. Whether it was the food or just fatigue, Jesse had become increasingly complacent as the night went on, sitting quietly on the couch beside him as mutual company. Walt figured he was simply too tired to be an annoyance but either way felt relieved. 

Walt already knew that when Jesse wasn’t complaining or fighting with him about inane issues, or wasting their time, he could actually be pleasant. At the condo, he was typically alone with his thoughts. Despite the circumstances, this was at least a change of pace. Normally Jesse would fill their time together with random thoughts or questions, like he couldn’t be left with silence. Small Jesse didn’t say much after eating, and Walt didn’t mind. 

As the night grew later, Walt found himself yawning. He glanced over at Jesse a few times to find the kid’s eyes starting to periodically close. A quick look at his watch reminded him that he was already up later than typical. He didn’t know what time Jesse normally went to bed, but it was pretty obvious he was tired too. He left Jesse on the couch to find some extra blankets. 

He returned and dropped a folded comforter and a pillow on the couch, listening deafly to an objection from a suddenly wide-awake Jesse that it was still ‘early’ and he ‘wasn’t tired’.

“Fine,” Walt responded tiredly with a slight roll of his eyes. “Then stay up.” 

Walt left Jesse while he insisted on setting up the Playstation with the promise of keeping the volume muted, and turned himself in for bed, shutting his bedroom door behind him. For all he cared, the kid could play video games all night so long as it kept him quiet. 

His first thoughts in bed were of the following day, and what they were supposed to do. He hoped that they would wake up to find Jesse back to normal, but he acknowledged there was just as much of a chance that there would be no change. 

He was supposed to go to the carwash tomorrow as well... He now worried about the logistics. Leaving Jesse alone at the condo didn’t seem like the greatest idea; however, bringing him to the carwash and having to fabricate some kind of background story to Skyler about why he suddenly had a six-year old child in tow was equally unappealing. Leaving him with Mike implied needing help from Mike, which was also something he wanted to avoid.

Maybe he wouldn’t have to worry about it. Maybe Jesse would reverse…

Before he could ponder his options too much longer, he fell asleep. 

Soon after what sleep masked as moments but very well could have been hours, he sat up in bed, startled at the abrupt sound from the other room. He blinked into the blank darkness, now hearing nothing, though the clamor of a moment ago still resounding in his ears. 

Was it a dream? No, it was too real. His dreams weren’t like this. 

“What the hell…” he muttered, pushing back the heavy blankets on top of him. He fumbled awkwardly for his glasses on the nightstand next to the bed, finding them with a brush of his hand across the surface of the table. He put them on hastily and turned on the light beside him. 

A quick glance at the digital alarm clock informed him that it was three-fifteen in the morning and he inwardly groaned, wishing he could simply go back to sleep. He considered it for a brief moment, and then instead pushed himself up out of bed to step into a pair of slippers. 

He wished to find the lights off and Jesse peacefully sleeping on the couch, with the noise a figment of his imagination or from maybe even outside. 

He left the bedroom to find that the lights were still on in the other room.

Jesse, what are you up to… he thought apprehensively.   
From the doorway of his bedroom, his eyes first went to the couch and found it empty. The comforter he placed there earlier remained folded and untouched. He glanced at the TV and found it still on. 

Dammit, Jesse, he thought. It’s three-fifteen and you haven’t even tried to go to sleep? 

That was when he heard a small groan coming from the kitchen. He looked past the TV and headed into the kitchen almost reluctantly, his exhaustion fading, replaced by trepidation and unease. 

He was stunned at first glance into the kitchen. 

Jesse was on the floor, like he’d fallen – but from where? – and around him was a mess of broken bottles and fragments of glass. It must have just happened, as he was just moving, slowly sitting up.

“What the hell?” Walt began, suddenly fully awake. He observed Jesse was still dressed as he had been earlier. 

Jesse sat up now, hunched over, and groaned again. 

Walt was confused at first how this mess was even possible. He looked around the kitchen, trying to understand, and then saw the counter where earlier today sat empty bottles and glass for recycling. It was now empty aside from a few turned over remaining bottles. Why would Jesse be near that? 

Suddenly Walt was irritated. His eyes took in the mess again. Three in the morning when the whole world was sleeping, and now he had to deal with this? Walt was already exhausted from the events of the day. How hard was it for Jesse to stay out of trouble for one night? How was this even possible?

“Jesse,” he said, voice stiff. Did the kid not even notice he was standing there? 

Jesse let out another small grunt as he moved a little and held his hands up in front of him. Walt now noticed blood. Jesse’s face was scrunched up as though in pain. He didn’t seem to notice he was bleeding, in fact he still barely seemed to notice Walt, as he slowly tried to get up.

“Jesse. What the hell did you do?” Walt persisted, tone annoyed, leaving the doorway of the kitchen to walk towards him. Glass crunched under his feet and he was thankful for the slippers he’d tiredly put on. How the hell was there so much glass? 

Jesse looked up and noticed Walt now, seemingly for the first time, and then appeared to panic. “Hey, Mr. White. I…. uh... ,” he began with a stutter. “Sorry.” He crawled to his feet and then tried to move backwards. “Look, I…” 

Walt took another step and reached for him while Jesse tried unsuccessfully and clumsily to step away. 

Walt’s hand clamped down on his shoulder, holding him still, and he didn’t miss the way Jesse flinched at the touch, as though expecting to be hit. “Stop it,” he said, voice low. He took a deep breath. “Do you have any idea what time it is?”

“No,” Jesse admitted. “I… I’m s-sorry,” Jesse repeated, face contorting into a pained frown again. 

Walt looked down around them again in disbelief at the mess. Then he focused back on Jesse. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“It was an accident,” Jesse objected. 

Walt’s patience thinned. “What kind of accident? Why the hell aren’t you sleeping?” He took in a smear of blood on Jesse’s shirt. “And do you even realize you’re bleeding?”

Jesse looked down at his hands again, now seeing the blood. He looked down at the clutter around him. There were a couple handprints of blood on the floor as well. His brain seemed to process the situation and his expression changed, became more vulnerable. He let out a small whimper, and then suddenly seemed to crumple into a true six-year old. 

“Hey. Calm down,” Walt ordered as the tears began. He let out a frustrated sigh. Despite his anger, his heart suddenly sank. He hated crying, especially when Jesse cried in this pathetic, sorry, wounded animal kind of way. His impatience was twisted now with empathy as Jesse’s shoulders shook, his head bowed down with his chin tucked tightly down against his chest. 

“Stop,” Walt insisted, hand still firmly on his shoulder. He shook him slightly. 

He wonder whether Jesse knew that crying got him out of things; Walt felt annoyed with himself for feeling sympathetic as well as with Jesse for crying in the first place. The tears seemed genuine. He was hurt, or at least a little cut up, but he couldn’t tell how much of the tears were for that versus Jesse being typically overly emotional. 

Walt briefly wondered how Mike dealt with Jesse’s emotions. Whether Jesse would dare cry in front of him. He realized the man would probably simply tell him to snap out of it or threaten to give him a real reason to cry. And it would probably work. 

“Stop crying,” Walt spoke evenly. Despite the aggravation he felt, he tried to keep his tone calm to pacify him. Jesse’s face was now streaked with wet tears that continued to fall. As Jesse reached to rub his face, Walt caught his wrist. “Stop.” 

Jesse’s tear-filled eyes glanced at him briefly in question as a few more large tears slid down his cheeks.

“Your hands,” Walter explained. “I think there’s glass.” He shook his head. “Will you explain to me what the hell happened in here, Jesse?”

Jesse glanced at him again, a nervous, fleeting glance. 

“What were you doing?” Walt continued. “How the hell did you make such a mess?” 

Jesse shrugged, keeping his eyes low. 

“Jesse.” Walt said his name warningly. His hand tightened on his shoulder. “Tell me what the hell you were doing.”

Jesse stayed still for a moment and then looked up at the ceiling briefly. Walt followed his line of sight and settled his gaze on the smoke detector. 

He looked at Jesse pointedly and then gestured up at the small device. “That? That’s what you were trying to get to?” 

Jesse stared at the floor now. A few more tears slipped down his face and he sniffled, shrugging again. 

“You’re an idiot,” Walt muttered abrasively. “Pathetic idiot.” He noticed Jesse’s nose was starting to run and sighed. He reached out and took him under his arms, picking him up forcibly. He expected Jesse to object or push against him, but beyond a slightly surprised sounding whimper, Jesse remained still.

With a clenched jaw, Walt carried him to the bathroom as Jesse continued sniffling. “You were going to smoke?”

“No,” Jesse managed as they entered the bathroom, voice wavering. 

“Don’t lie to me,” Walt snapped. He set Jesse down on the bathroom counter forcefully and Jesse flinched. 

“But I wasn’t,” came the choked response. 

Walt narrowed his eyes and reached for a facecloth. Turning on the faucet next to Jesse, he wet the small towel briefly before using it to wipe Jesse’s face. He didn’t care that Jesse winced as he swiped the wet fabric gruffly over his cheeks. 

“Stop crying,” he instructed again stiffly. “Enough is enough.” He wiped the stray tears that continued to roll down his face in exasperation. “Are you crying because I’m angry or because you’re hurt?”

Jesse lowered his chin to his chest and nodded. 

“Which one is it?” Walt persisted. He paused. “Both?” As Jesse nodded again, he let out a deep breath. “Well, you’re right about one thing. I am angry. Show me your hands.”

Jesse obeyed, holding his hands out in front of him. “I said I’m sorry,” he said again softly. 

“You’ll be sorry,” Walt muttered under his breath. He took Jesse’s right wrist and turned his hand over to reveal the bleeding palm. He still saw a few thin shards of glass embedded in the skin as he suspected and muttered a curse. 

Jesse pulled his hand away defensively. “I can do it.”

Walt took his wrist again, giving him a warning look, and looked again at his hand. “Can you?” he challenged bitterly. “Just stay still.” With his free hand he reached towards the drawer under the counter. He pulled it open and glanced inside for what he needed. Tweezers. 

Jesse tried to pull his hand away again, but Walt’s grip remained tight on his wrist. 

“Stop,” Walt commanded. 

Jesse started to squirm, face scrunching up again. “But you’re gonna make it hurt on purpose,” he objected shakily.

Walt met his eye and paused for a minute. “Jesse.” He shook his head and softened his tone gently. “I’m not.” 

Jesse’s expression clearly showed he didn’t believe him. For a moment, Walt thought good, let this be part of the punishment. But at the same time, he knew he wouldn’t hurt him on purpose. It would probably hurt, that probably couldn’t be avoided, but he wasn’t going to make it any more painful than it had to be. 

Jesse looked like he might start to cry again, and Walt decided to be a little gentler for the moment, at least until he could get him cleaned up. “I admit that Skyler was always a little more skilled with the skinned knees and cuts and bruises,” he began. “But I’m not going to make it hurt more than it has to.” He studied Jesse’s face. “But if you keep moving, then it’s going to hurt. You have to stay still.” 

Jesse nodded, consenting, and despite pre-emptively grimacing, he let Walt pull his hand closer to him. 

His palm was a mess of small, nearly invisible pieces of glass, and blood, and dirt. It wasn’t that much glass, thankfully, and with tweezers Walt began to slowly try to clean him up. With each sliver he carefully extracts, Walt realizes there is another hand in the same condition.

“Three-thirty in the fucking morning,” he muttered as he closed in on being nearly done with the first hand. Jesse remained quiet and relatively still, trembling occasionally but with an obvious attempt to dutifully keep still. 

“Maybe you should stay with Mike,” Walt continued, glancing at Jesse for reaction. Jesse eyes him suspiciously, as though trying to figure out whether he was being serious. “Would you do this in his house?”

Jesse stared back at him blankly and didn’t answer.

“What were you going to smoke?” Walt continued, now focused on Jesse’s other hand. There was much less glass in this one, but a couple shards look painfully deep. 

Jesse hissed as Walt extracted one of those pieces. 

“Hurts, doesn’t it?” Walt raised his eyes to look at him again. “Now answer me. What were you going to smoke?” 

“Nothing.”

“Then why were you trying to disable the smoke detector?”

Jesse paused. “I wasn’t.”

“You looked directly at it when I asked what you were doing,” Walt reminded. “You’re a terrible liar, Jesse.” Walt moved Jesse’s hand slightly, narrowing in what seemed to be the last piece of glass. “I might be exhausted, but I’m not stupid.” 

Jesse winced as Walt pulled out the last splinter of glass. “Are you done?”

“Almost.” Walt turned to the cabinet on the wall and opened the door. He reached in for the bottle of hydrogen peroxide sitting on the first shelf. “Put your hands over the sink.” 

Jesse eyed the bottle warily. He opened his mouth briefly as though to object, but then shut his mouth and unquestioningly placed his hands next to him, over the sink. His face, still blotchy with tears, had a look of apprehension. He shrank back a little bit as Walt took the cap off the top of the bottle and held it over his hands. 

“Ready?” Walt asked. 

Jesse nodded, closing his eyes tightly. 

Walt poured slowly and watched the liquid bubble up over Jesse’s palms, turning white. Jesse started to fidget as it became uncomfortable and quickly let out a deep breath it seemed he’d been holding. 

Walt found a small roll of gauze and after drying Jesse’s hands, wrapped the gauze a couple times around each of his hands. 

A minute later they were done. 

“Cigarettes or weed, Jesse?” Walt asked. 

Jesse didn’t look at him, not responding for a moment. He studied his wrapped hands and slowly said, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

Walt took him by the chin, forcing his head up. “Look at me.” He waited, silent until Jesse’s red-rimmed blue eyes finally met his with unease. “It’s nearly four in the morning.” Walt’s voice was low. “And I’m being as patient as possible, Jesse, but I’m really not in a good mood right now. Tell me what the hell you were going to smoke, or—”

“Nothing,” Jesse lied, not breaking eye contact. 

“Nothing?” Walt echoed. “That’s bullshit and we both know it. I will strip search you if I have to, Jesse.”

Jesse eyed him silently, as though challenging him. 

Walt’s hands went towards Jesse’s waist, towards his pockets. 

“Hey,” Jesse objected, batting his hands away. His voice was high. “Fuck off, pervert. I told you! I don’t have anything.”

Walt grabbed both Jesse’s wrists, and held him still for a minute. “Are we going through this song and dance again? You want to make this easy or difficult on yourself?” 

Jesse’s eyes narrowed. “Mr. White. Stop treating me like I’m a child.” 

“You’re acting like a child,” Walt shot back. “Stop wasting our time.” He paused. “Think hard, Jesse. Am I going to find something in your pockets?” 

Jesse swallowed. He fidgeted a little and then simply said, “Yes.”

“And?”

“What do you want me to say?” Jesse rolled his eyes and looked away, past Walt at the wall. “You’re gonna find it anyway.” 

“No smoking. How difficult is that rule?”

“Obviously it’s pretty fucking difficult,” Jesse answered irritably. 

“Unbelievable…” Walt let go of his wrists and reached again for his pockets. This time Jesse didn’t stop him. 

In the right pocket he found a small plastic bag with three joints inside. In the right pocket he found simply a single cigarette. 

He looked at Jesse pointedly, waiting for a reaction. 

Jesse scowled. “What?” he began. He shrugged his shoulders wearily. “Go ahead, Mr. White. Yell at me. Hit me. I don’t care. But I’m not apologizing.”

Walt silently removed the joints from the plastic bag and took a step away, towards the toilet. Glancing at Jesse briefly, he dropped the weed and the lone cigarette in the toilet before flushing it. 

Jesse’s sullen expression simply looked angry now, though silent. 

Walter gave him a long look. He studied his young face and contentious frown, traces of tears still visible on his cheeks. After thinking about how to handle him, and thinking about the time of day it was, Walt walked over to take him under his arms and pulled him off the counter, putting him on the floor. “I don’t need to tell you that you’re on thin ice, Jesse. My advice is not to say a single word to me. Go to bed,” he said stiffly. “Tomorrow’s a long day.”


	6. Chapter 6

Apologies for the delay in updating. Unfortunately I'm not a real writer and my day job requires 60-80 hours a week. Recent weeks have required the higher end of the spectrum so it's been difficult to get updates. Thanks to everyone still along for the ride. :)

 

\------  
Chapter 6  
\------

Don’t go to sleep angry. The common saying. 

How true it really was, Walt thought to himself the following morning as he slowly tried to clean up the kitchen. He started the project by first staring at the room in renewed disbelief. After shaking his head for a while, he moved on to picking up the larger pieces of glass before then finding a broom in the back of his pantry closet to try to sweep up the smaller broken pieces.

To say he hadn’t slept well would be an understatement. His first half hour back in bed was a fight with himself as he resisted the urge to go back to the other room and really let Jesse have it. He finally convinced himself that doing so would accomplish nothing, and he eventually fell asleep, despite the tight feeling in his chest, the clenched fists, and the angry thoughts in his mind. 

He woke up earlier than usual and hoped that a shower and a cup of coffee would reset his mood. The hope only lasted so long, as the sight of the kitchen instead reinstated his irritation. The mess brought back the events of the previous night without avail and he immediately felt his blood pressure surge. 

A glance at sleeping Jesse on the couch only calmed him slightly. Jesse always appeared younger when he slept, with a sense of peace and calm to his features that didn’t exist when he was awake. When awake, Jesse was always caught up in something, usually getting into some kind of trouble or at the minimum testing someone’s patience. Slumbering he was transformed into a child, even in his usual state. Now, in his current state, he was epitome of innocence in his sleep. For a moment Walt felt at peace watching him.

Until he looked back at the kitchen. 

Don’t judge a book by its cover, Walt thought wryly. Another common saying. His life was turning into a series of clichés. 

He considered waking up Jesse to clean the kitchen but quickly resorted himself to do it, realizing making Jesse do it in his current state was pointless. He was too small and would probably end up hurting himself again if not making more of a mess. 

Besides, he thought to himself, maybe the exertion of some physical energy would be calming…

He was nearly done with returning the kitchen to its normal state when the sound of Jesse’s phone made him turn his head. 

Sure enough Jesse now moved on the couch, slowly waking up. Walt watched him tiredly stretch out like a cat would before wearily sitting up and reaching for the phone on coffee table. 

Jesse flipped open the phone, stared at it for a moment, and then tossed it beside him. 

“Who is it?” Walt asked from across the room. 

Jesse looked up with an almost surprised expression, stifling a yawn and running a hand over his head. He looked around the room as if reminding himself where he was and then slowly met Walt’s gaze. 

“Mike,” he replied cautiously, clearing his throat. 

Walt nodded and stayed silent.

Jesse looked down at himself and let out a sigh. “I’m not back yet.”

“Your observation skills are impressive, Sherlock,” Walt answered sarcastically. 

Jesse let out another disappointed breath and then slowly slid off the couch to stand. “Mike wants us to meet him.” 

Walt briefly gave Jesse a once over and noticed he was still wearing the same clothes from the previous day. He said nothing as he turned back to the kitchen. It was almost clean. He wondered if finally getting to that state would make him feel any better. 

Jesse slowly walked towards the kitchen, taking apprehensive steps. He watched Walt sweep the last remaining broken fragments of glass into the broom pan and remained in the doorway.

There was silence between them for a moment, filled only by the sound of broken glass dumped into the garbage. 

Finally Jesse broke the silence. “Yo, are you mad at me?” he asked.

Walt looked up, eyeing Jesse in the doorway, and looked him over again briefly. He looked tired. His t-shirt had a stain of blood across the front, and his hands were still covered in the gauze from last night. He watched Walt with a look of unease and overall looked disheveled and apprehensive. 

“I’m not pleased with you, if that’s what you mean,” Walt answered with a dry tone. 

“I can help.” 

“With?” Walt gestured at the cleaned up kitchen and then looked at Jesse questioningly. 

“I would have helped.” Jesse’s tone turned frustrated.

“Well, it’s done,” Walt replied, offering little more than an annoyed edge in his tone. He used the broom to pick up the last fragments he could see. 

Jesse leaned against the doorway and frowned. “What do you want me to say, Mr. White? I… I said I was sorry.” 

“I don’t know what I want you to say, to be honest, Jesse.” Walt walked with the broom and dustpan over to the trash to dump the last remaining remnants of the mess. He caught movement out of the corner of his eye and looked up. “Stay out of the kitchen,” he said curtly.

Jesse paused mid-step and looked at him tentatively. Then his eyes narrowed slightly in suspicion. “Why?”

“Because you’re barefoot.” Walt sighed, slightly exasperated. He wished he could have finished while Jesse slept. “And while I spent the last hour cleaning this place, I really don’t feel like cleaning you up again if I missed something.” He paused. “How are you hands?”

“They’re okay.” Jesse let out an exasperated breath. “I guess.” He raised his gauze covered hands in front of his face for a moment and then dropped his hands to his side in exasperation. “Sore.”

“Not surprising,” Walt muttered. “Hopefully you at least slept better than I did. ”

“Not really…” Jesse shifted his posture. “Can I have some coffee?”

“Coffee?” Walt repeated.

Jesse nodded and pointed to the pot of coffee on the counter. “Yeah, coffee.” He raised his eyebrows. “Unless you’re gonna be a dick about that too?”

Walt eyed him for a moment and sighed again. What was he supposed to say? That coffee would stunt his growth? “You can have coffee,” he said slowly. He wondered if pumping a six-year old Jesse full of caffeine was a bad idea. 

“So let me get this straight… I can’t have booze or cigarettes….” Jesse started caustically, “but I can have coffee?”

“Believe it or not,” Walt answered tersely, wondering why Jesse just needed to press his buttons, “while not recommended, it’s actually not illegal for a child to have coffee. On the other hand, alcohol and cigarettes are most definitely illegal.”

“Except I’m not a child,” Jesse objected.

“Except you are.” 

“Jesus,” Jesse muttered, exasperated. “This is a fucking joke.”

“I wish it was a joke.” Walt raised his eyebrows. “I already said you can have coffee, Jesse. Isn’t it a little early in the morning for you to already be thinking about getting high and drunk?”

Jesse made a face. “Yo, don’t be a dick, Mr. White.” 

Walt shook his head and walked over to the cabinet to get a mug, leaving the broom upright and balanced against the counter. He filled it halfway with coffee and paused to look over at Jesse, who remained in the doorway. “Milk?”

Jesse nodded. “And sugar,” he added, maintaining his look of annoyance. He watched Walt go to the refrigerator and then paused to look at the phone in his hand. “Nine. We need to meet him at nine.”

“What?” Walt questioned, glancing over at him as he stirred the coffee.

“Mike,” Jesse explained. He looked up as Walt approached with the coffee and then lowered his eyes. “Look, I… I don’t know. But Mike said nine. At the diner.”

“Nine.” Walt nodded. “Okay. Well… Then tell him we’ll meet at nine. Of course.” He watched Jesse flip open his phone to presumably send the text confirmation to Mike. He held the mug down to Jesse’s level. “Here.”

Jesse closed the phone and looked up. “Uh, thanks.” He took the mug and eyed him skeptically for a minute. He brought the mug to his lips, taking a small sip. “You’re cool with meeting him?”

“Sure. It’s good timing actually…” Walt slowly crossed his arms over his chest. “I might have to leave you with him today.”

Jesse looked up in surprise. “What? Why?” He frowned.

“Because. As fun as all of this is, Jesse, I actually don’t have time to baby-sit you today. I kind of have other things going on in my life right now.”

“Good. Because I don’t need a baby-sitter,” Jesse answered irritably. His hands tightened on the coffee cup. “Is this because you’re pissed at me for last night? Look, Mr. White—I said I was sorry. I was going crazy last night with this… this situation. And I just thought a hit would help.”

“Jesse, for your own sake, let’s not talk about last night.” Walt shook his head and lifted his hands to his head to rub his temples. He had a headache. “My blood pressure can’t get much higher.”

“I—”

“Enough.” 

Jesse quieted for only a moment, taking another sip of the coffee. “Then why are you gonna leave me with Mike?” he insisted, the twinge of a whine in his tone. 

“Because I need to be at the car wash today, and I need to see my wife,” Walt answered stiffly. “And I have zero desire to explain to her why I have a strange six year old with me.”

“Then why can’t I just stay here?” Jesse answered. 

“After last night?” Walt shook his head. “I don’t think I pay enough for my insurance policy to risk that.” He couldn’t help the sarcasm. 

Jesse scowled, the face of a frustrated child. “Come on.” 

“Jesse, I have zero trust in you right now,” Walt answered rigidly. “Do you blame me?” 

“But you know it was an accident.” 

“There was an accident following the very intentional act of trying to tamper with my smoke detector. Is that what you mean?” 

Jesse’s scowl intensified. “Why do you have to twist the words around so it sounds like that, Mr. White?”

“How am I ‘twisting my words’, Jesse?” Walt challenged. “And honestly. I’m only going to get angry about it, so do you really want to have this conversation?”

Jesse glowered and remained silent.

“That’s what I thought,” Walt answered. “Now why don’t you go take a bath and change, so we can go meet Mike.” He glanced at his watch and shook his head. “At this point, getting there by nine is looking optimistic.” 

Jesse continued to glare at him for a moment, silently fuming from the conversation. In what appeared to be a half second decision, he then held out the mug of coffee and opened his hand. 

Walt watched as though it was slow motion as the mug dropped to the floor, coffee already spilling out before it even hit the floor. By the time it did hit the floor, splitting into a dozen broken pieces surrounded by a wide pool of dark liquid, Jesse had already run out of the room. 

Walt muttered a curse as he started out of the kitchen after him, deciding with ultimate conviction he was absolutely leaving Jesse with Mike today no matter what. 

Jesse had just unlocked and pulled open the front door when Walt caught up with him. He reached out and slammed the door abruptly shut in front of them, finding himself nearly short of breath. As Jesse began to move away again, he grabbed him by the arm. “What the hell is wrong with you?” he demanded, feeling his heart pounding in his chest. He was far too old for this. “And where the hell do you think you’re going?”

Jesse squirmed against him insistently. “Stop treating me like a baby!” Jesse shouted, voice high. He pulled at his arm, wincing as Walt’s grip tightened. “Let go!” 

“You’re acting like a God damn baby,” Walt snapped, raising his voice. “You want to be treated like a baby?” In a moment of fury, he yanked Jesse closer to him and with his free hand landed a solid slap across the seat of his jeans. 

Jesse cried out, more in surprise than pain, and then squirmed harder against his hold. He shot Walt a heated look with narrowed eyes. “What the fuck!”

Taking another deep breath, Walt moved his hands to Jesse’s underarms and lifted him up to be at his eye level. Jesse’s face was flushed and he was now looking anywhere but at Walt, instead glaring away at an unknown target. His expression was sullen.

“Look at me,” Walt directed in a clear, even voice. When he didn’t listen, he grew frustrated. “Jesse.” 

Calm down, Walt told himself, taking a deep breath. Remember he’s much more vulnerable than usual now and there is a six year old’s judgment in there as well calling the shots. He could feel his pulse racing. 

“Jesse,” he repeated.

Jesse blinked, continuing to refuse for a moment, but then eventually met his gaze when Walt repeated his name. 

Jesse’s eyes were a deep blue pool of emotion. Walt kept his own stare emotionless and icy. “What was that back there?” he demanded. 

“Another accident,” Jesse responded petulantly. 

Walt resisted the urge to slap him and instead set his jaw, taking a moment to process his thoughts. “What the hell is going through your head right now, Jesse?” 

Jesse stayed quiet for a moment, brooding. His gaze faltered for a moment. “I… I’m tired of being smaller than you,” he admitted. 

“You’ve always been smaller than me,” Walt answered stiffly. “But never this infuriating. I know you’re frustrated, but there’s no need to take it out on me and my condo.” He shook his head. “Jesse, I just spent the last hour cleaning up your God damn mess. And you do what? Create a new mess?”

Jesse didn’t answer.

“You say you’re not a child,” Walt continued. “Yet you continue to do things like this. What would you do in my position?”

“I would let me go home,” Jesse responded with a slight waver to his tone, finally meeting Walt’s gaze again. 

Walt eyed him warily for a moment and then set him back on the floor. “You know that’s not happening right now.” 

Jesse looked up at him and made a face. “If I stay like this, I’m not fucking living with you, Mr. White.”

“Trust me,” Walt answered stiffly. “It won’t be an option.” 

\-------

Mike was already at the diner when they arrived, sitting in a booth by the window. He had a cup of coffee in front of him, and looked up with a blank expression as they approached. His focus shifted from Walt to Jesse.

“So no change,” he said slowly.

Walt slid into the booth, across from Mike, and gave him an equally unimpressed look. “No change.”

Jesse stood beside the table, not committing to sit down, and glanced from Walt to Mike and then back to Walt again. “Yeah, no change. Your observation skills are impressive. So is that the meeting then?”

“If you mean whether the meeting is over,” Mike answered, “then no.” He gave Jesse a look. “If that’s all I needed to know, I would have made a phone call. Now sit.”

Jesse continued to stand there reluctantly.

Walt sighed. “Jesse. Let’s get this over with.” He met Jesse’s gaze briefly, considering whether to comment on his repeat of his own earlier comment about observation skills.

“All I wanted to do here,” Mike began, “is figure out next steps.” 

“Next steps like what?” Jesse questioned with a whine to his tone.

“Like you sitting down.” Mike observed him wearily. His eyes dropped to Jesse’s hands, which still were wrapped in gauze. He briefly glanced at Walt before turning back to Jesse. “And what the hell happened to your hands?”

“Nothing,” Jesse answered. 

“Nothing?”

“Nothing,” Jesse confirmed.

“Anyway,” Mike continued, “my point is that we still have another day, or two, until we have to really figure out what our story is.”

“And your investment in this ‘story’ is what, exactly?” Walt looked at him skeptically. “If you don’t mind me asking.”

“My ‘investment’,” Mike answered slowly, “is keeping us alive. That okay with you, Walter?”

“And what’s our story,” Jesse began, “if this is me tomorrow or the next day?”

Walt and Mike both turned to look at Jesse, and then briefly glanced at each other. A moment of silence passed. 

“Hi there.” A peppy female voice interrupted them and they all turned their heads to view the waitress. 

Mike took the moment to lean out and take Jesse by the arm, forcing him towards the booth before reaching out to lift him physically into a seat beside him.

“What can I get for everyone?” the waitress continued with a wide smile. “Mike, I already have your order, of course.”

Jesse settled next to Mike uncomfortably and scowled. He looked up at the waitress and said, “I’ll have a beer.”

The waitress looked surprised for a moment and then laughed. “That’s so cute,” she remarked. 

“Coffee,” Walt said stiffly. “Black.”

“And milk,” Mike cut in. He gave Jesse a look. “Milk for this one.”

The waitress smiled politely. “Coming right up.” 

As she walked away, Mike landed a slap to the back of Jesse's head. As Jesse made a whimper of objection, he sent Walter a look. "Let's talk."


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I could apologize for the delay again, but it would reiterative. A huge thank you to everyone who has left comments. It's greatly appreciated and I do wish I could update more often.

"Hi there." A peppy female voice interrupted them and they all turned their heads to view the waitress.

Mike took the moment to lean out and take Jesse by the arm, forcing him into the booth.

"What can I get for everyone?" the waitress continued with a wide smile. "Mike, I already have your order, of course."

Jesse settled next to Mike uncomfortably and scowled. He looked up at the waitress and said, "I'll have a beer."

The waitress looked surprised for a moment and then laughed. "That's so cute," she remarked.

"Coffee," Walt said stiffly. "Black."

"And milk," Mike cut in. He gave Jesse a look. "Milk for this one."

The waitress smiled politely. "Coming right up."

As she walked away, Mike landed a slap to the back of Jesse's head. As Jesse made a whimper of objection, he sent Walter a look. "Let's talk."

"That hurt," Jesse objected.

"Good." Mike shot him a look. "Asking for a beer? Really?"

Jesse's brow furrowed. "I could use one."

"You want to know what you could really use?" Mike's tone was stiff.

"Not fucking milk," Jesse answered. "That's for sure."

Mike rolled his eyes and let out an exasperated sigh. "Listen, kid…"

Walt cleared his throat loudly and both Jesse and Mike turned to look at him. "Anyway," he resumed the conversation. "We were discussing our so-called story… Considering the lab re-opens on Wednesday."

"Aren't we ahead of schedule?" Jesse asked.

"Yes, slightly," Walt agreed. "Which does help."

"It does help in the immediate future," Mike agreed. "But exactly how ahead are you? How many days does that buy?"

Jesse made a face. "Well, how many days do you think I'm going to be stuck like this?"

"We probably have a few days," Walt said, pausing to do some mental math of their recent production. "But not much longer. I can cook by myself, but… It's slower… And, well, eventually someone is going to question where Jesse is."

"We can always say the junkie relapsed," Mike suggested wryly.

"Hey," Jesse objected.

"Why not?" Mike raised his eyebrows and gave Jesse a challenging look. "It's believable, is it not?"

Jesse narrowed his eyes. "Absolutely not."

Walt looked between the two of them. "Well, we need to think of something."

"How about you just cook by yourself until things go back to normal?" Jesse answered, with a slight edge to his voice. "Oh, yeah, that's right… Then who would clean all the shit off the equipment, right? Who does all the dirty work?"

"Jesse…" Walt shook his head. "Let's be serious here."

"I am being serious. That's what you're thinking, right? That you'd have to do all that by yourself too?"

At that moment the waitress returned to the table, placing two coffees and a glass of milk on the table.

"Cream and sugar for the coffee is right there on the table," she said cheerily as she slid the milk towards Jesse. "Is there anything else you would like for now?"

"We're good for now," Mike answered. He gave her a forced smile. "Thanks."

She smiled back. "Alright then. I'll check in on you guys in a little while."

As she walked away, Walt sighed. "Look, Jesse. Getting emotional about this isn't going to—" He cut himself off as he watched Jesse lift his hand up and knock over the glass of milk.

"Emotional?" Jesse echoed, voice hitching. "There's emotional."

"What the fuck?" Mike exclaimed as the milk formed a rapidly spreading pool on the table. He reached out quickly to catch the rolling glass and put it upright. He pushed the few napkins on the table towards the spillage.

"Jesse," Walt hissed. He looked around them to see if anyone had noticed the commotion.

The only one who noticed was the waitress.

She was back over with a sympathetic expression, fully attentive. "Oh no," she began. "Honey, don't worry… I'll bring you another one." She pulled a towel out from her apron and started to mop up the spill. "Accidents happen."

"No, that's fine… Really. He doesn't need any more," Mike answered, voice stiff.

"It's no problem," she persisted, half of the messed absorbed into the towel as she continued to wipe it up. "I can—"

"Really." Mike's voice was more forceful. "It's fine,"

She glanced up at him, pausing from wiping the table, as though surprised over the tone.

"I want more," Jesse spoke up.

Immediately, Walt and Mike simultaneously shot him the 'look', eyes glaring. As Jesse seemed unphased, Mike grabbed his arm under the table, out of plain view, and squeezed hard.

Jesse let out a soft but audible whimper.

"It's okay, honey," the waitress said. "One more milk coming up. What's that saying? No crying over spilled milk, right?" She smiled at Jesse. "It's not a big deal, honey."

Jesse squirmed as Mike squeezed his arm harder but made no sound.

The waitress gave the table one more swipe with the towel. She then gave Jesse another smile. "Back in a few," she said, before she then walked away.

Mike gave Jesse's arm one more hard squeeze as he focused on him. "Tell me something, kid. Are you out of your mind?" Mike demanded, voice low.

Jesse fidgeted. "You're hurting me," he protested, pushing against Mike's grip on his arm.

"Am I?" Mike answered. "Well, that's too bad. If I was doing what I wanted to do to you right now, they would have to call the police."

Jesse just scowled and continued to pull at his arm. "Okay, I get it… Yo, can we just finish this conversation already? I mean, I get it. We don't know what to do. End of story."

Walt shook his head, watching from across the booth. "Jesse… What is wrong with you? I mean... really, tell me. Is this a new habit? I'd love to know what the hell you think you're accomplishing right now."

"What are you accomplishing right now?" Jesse shot back.

Mike let go of Jesse's arm. Frustrated, he took a sip of coffee, swallowed, and then looked at Walt. "So I guess there isn't much more to say for now, Walter. Except keep me posted."

"Blah, blah, blah," Jesse began, rolling his eyes. He slouched back in the booth, sliding down in his seat. He sighed. "Are we done?"

Mike eyed him wearily.

Walt sighed as well. He looked at his partner and then at Mike. Mike always wore a hint of irritability no matter the occasion, but looked particularly annoyed at the moment. Jesse on the other hand looked like a disgruntled and errant child. He took a sip of coffee, pausing before he spoke. It was terrible timing, considering Jesse's behavior, but it had to be said. "Mike... While we're talking... I need you to take him today."

Jesse instantly looked up at Walt, eyes apprehensive.

"Take him?" Mike echoed. He cleared his throat. "Why the hell would would I 'take him', Walter?"

"Just today." Walt adjusted his glasses, taking a deep breath. "I can't keep him with me today."

Mike glanced at Jesse for a moment and then chuckled, returning his gaze to Walt with a shake of his head. "Well, I'm afraid that's not possible, Walter…"

"I'll go with you, Mike," Jesse spoke up abruptly, glancing at Mike hesitantly. "I want to go with you."

"Oh, you do, huh?" Mike eyed him skeptically and shook his head. "Kid, do you realize I'm the last person you want to be paired with today?"

"A few hours," Walt continued.

"A few hours," Mike echoed. "Based on the last ten minutes alone, I can confidently say it's not going to happen."

"That was an accident," Jesse began, gesturing at the table.

As if on cue, the waitress returned with a single glass of milk. With a smile, she placed on the table and slid it toward Jesse.

"As promised, for the little guy," she said with a smile.

"Thanks," Mike answered, forcing a smile with a stiff jaw. He watched the waitress walk away and then looked at Jesse again. He raised his hand towards the milk and slid it away from Jesse's reach. "So why the hell do you want to come with me?"

Jesse frowned at him and then glanced at Walt. "Because."

Mike looked at Walt as well and back at Jesse. He chuckled. "Oh, really? Is there trouble in paradise?"

"Look, I just need a few hours this afternoon," Walt continued.

Mike shrugged. "Unfortunately I don't have a few hours, Walter. The things I typically need to get done, as Jesse should know," he shot Jesse a look, "are not appropriate for a baby."

"I'm not a baby," Jesse objected.

"You're barely 'not a baby' in your normal state, kid," Mike answered dryly. "I can't have you with me."

"I'll stay in the car."

"How is that different than what you usually do?"

"I can be hidden."

"No."

"I—"

"N-," Mike spelled slowly, "-O." He shook his head. "And what is it you can't expose him to, Walter?" he challenged. "That out-shadows him actually getting hurt coming with me?"

Walt met his gaze silently. "Fine," he consented slowly. "If it's really not at an option…"

Walt realized that the day's events suddenly were going to take another turn.

\--------------

"Your wife is scary."

Walter glanced at Jesse in his rear view mirror and gripped his steering wheel, taking a deep breath as he remained focused on the road.

"Scary? No," he answered. "Intense? Yes. A little bit."

Jesse made a face, squirming against his seatbelt. "Drop me at my house, Mr. White…" he said. "Please."

Walt sighed, taking a quick look in the mirror at Jesse again. He looked frustrated, looking out the window with a furrowed brow. The same thought had crossed Walt's mind. But then the thought of what could happen in just a couple hours if he did indeed Jesse alone, especially at his own home, crossed his mind. When it came to Jesse, there were many things that could happen. From beer to weed to meth to something else… Walt didn't even want to consider it.

"It's a couple hours at the car wash," Walt said.

"I could be home, Mr. White." Jesse grunted. "I want to go home."

"If you could be trusted, then maybe," Walt answered. "However, considering you've been acting like a entitled little idiot…"

"I'm not."

,

"Look at you," Walt responded, somewhat shortly. He was tired of the conversation. "I'm not leaving you alone."

"It's no different than normal," Jesse insisted, whining. "I don't get it…."

"You never get it," Walt snapped. He took a deep breath. "We just… We need to get through the afternoon. I know it doesn't matter to you, but this is my wife. This is my business. I—"

"Wife. Business," Jesse scoffed. "It's not a business," Jesse answered insolently. "It's money laundering. With a car laundry."

"Car laundry?" Walt echoed.

"Yeah. Like you clean cars."

"You have no idea what you're talking about." Walt shook his head. "Jesse. Listen to me. I don't know what's going through your head. But the way you've acted in the last twenty-four hours doesn't –"

"I'm frustrated," Jesse persisted.

"It doesn't matter," Walt answered, voice stern. "At least for the next twenty minutes, you leave that behind you."

"Whatever I tell her, she'll believe me," Jesse began brazenly.

"Excuse me?"

"Skyler. She'll believe me. It's true. I'm six."

"Really? Now you're claiming to be six? How convenient." Walt gripped the steering wheel tighter.

"You wanna risk it? If not, take me home."

Walt sighed. It was going to be a long couple of hours. "You wont," he said slowly, "because you know it won't work out well for you. And you know I'm not taking you home."

"Mr. White, I–"

"Enough."

"Why do you—"

"Enough."

Jesse let out a disgruntled noise but remained silent.

Walt glanced at the clock on the dashboard of the car briefly before returning his eyes to the road.

The upcoming, inevitable meeting with Skyler suddenly made his stomach turn.


	8. Chapter 8

By the time they arrived to the car wash, Walt had considered driving to Jesse’s house multiple times. Driving back to his own condo had also crossed his mind, and almost seemed to be the preferential choice. After all, he was fairly certain – not a hundred percent, but fairly certain – that there were no drugs in his home. Additionally, after the mess Jesse had already made there, he could only hope that being granted some desired independence would in turn cause Jesse to at least respect Walt’s property. 

After some consideration, his mind then drifted to all the other times he had overestimated Jesse’s sense of responsibility and common sense when granting him too much freedom. In fact, even Jesse thinking he was doing the right thing could land him in trouble. 

His earlier comment came back to mind. He was fairly certain his insurance policy wasn’t enough. 

If something happened now, even while Jesse was a pint-size version of himself, it could create much bigger problems for them. From Jesse getting seriously hurt to authorities becoming involved. 

Not worth it. 

As much as he dreaded the confrontation with Skyler, considering the potential implications with Gus and their current arrangement if anything happened to Jesse, he knew it was the only choice. 

“Just… compose yourself…” Walt said carefully as they left the car and walked toward the main entrance of the car wash office. He glanced down at his partner. “Understand, Jesse? I just need to cover here for a few hours… And, just… Act six.”

“Act six?” Jesse echoed incredulously. He glanced up at Walt with a skeptical expression, brow furrowed. 

“Within reason,” Walt answered. “To Skyler, you are actually a six year old. So if you have to speak, and I recommend not speaking, then do it wisely.”

“Whatever,” Jesse mumbled, lowering his chin to his chest, gaze to the asphalt of the parking lot. He was literally dragging his feet.

“I mean it.” Walt started to wonder if he would regret his choice to bring Jesse here. 

“Sure you do.” Jesse rolled his eyes. 

“A few hours,” Walt repeated with a sigh. “That’s all I’m asking. Look, this isn’t ideal for me either.”

“A few hours and then what?” Jesse asked. 

“What do you mean, and then what?” Walt shook his head. “Then, that’s it. We can go.” 

“And then? I mean, I’m only asking since, you know, everything is on your fucking terms.” Jesse’s small, thin voice was thick with hostility. 

Walt glanced down again to view Jesse’s expression. He didn’t think it was possible for the kid to sulk any more than he already had that day. “Alright, Jesse. Please, tell me. What would you want to do?”

“I already told you. I want to go home,” Jesse answered irritably. 

Walt sighed in exasperation. It was like talking to a broken record. Or an actual six year-old. “And I told you. Not going to happen, Jesse.” 

“Okay, so you won’t let me be by myself,” Jesse reminded, “which is stupid. But why’s it mean I have to stay at your condo? When did we vote on that?”

“Jesse.” Walt eyed the entrance to the car wash just yards ahead of them and stopped walking. Jesse stopped as well, and looked up to meet Walt’s gaze challengingly. “Last I checked,” Walt continued, “the most you had in your refrigerator was ketchup packets and cheap beer, and your coffee maker was filled with what could best be described as hardened mud…” 

“So?” Jesse protested, voice rising. 

Walt shook his head. “So is a vote even necessary? I think my place is obviously the better alternative.” 

“Yo, don’t act like your condo’s the God damned Four Seasons or something,” Jesse scoffed. “Because newsflash, Mr. White. It’s not that great.” 

“Jesse—”

“Just because you have two different types of creamer, and like, an espresso machine,” Jesse continued irritably, “doesn’t mean that you’re the only one that gets a fucking vote.”

Walt sighed and glanced again at the entrance. “Jesse, listen. We can talk about this later, but right now, I’m late and we need to go.”

“I thought this was a democracy.”

“Not at the moment.”

“Oh yeah?” Jesse responded defiantly. “Well… Fine. Then, I’ll tell Skyler that you…” he paused, as though thinking through alternative extortions. “I’ll tell her you’re cheating on her.” 

Walt was slightly surprised at first, but then studied Jesse’s brooding face and smirked. Jesse was glaring at him expectantly, as though waiting for an answer. The surly, bad temper was comical on the face of a six year old. 

“I’ll do it,” Jesse challenged, testing the lack of response with an insistent tone. 

“Sure,” Walt began. “Please do. That will accomplish a lot…” He knew that if he laughed it off, Jesse would think his threat held no weight and back off. “In fact, I wonder how she’ll react… Maybe ask me to move out into a my own condo?” He paused, chuckling.

Jesse’s expression darkened. Walt’s smirk seemed to infuriate him. He scowled and then suddenly turned and started to walk back toward the car. 

“Oh, Jesse… Hey,” Walt objected. He started to after him, easily catching up with his longer strides. He reached down and caught his arm. “Where are you going?”

“Fuck you then. I’ll stay in the car,” Jesse answered, voice hitching. 

Walt let go of his arm while shaking his head. “That’s not an option, Jesse. You have to work with me here.” He noticed Jesse’s eyes tearing up and sighed. “Come on, what’s the issue now?” he began, exasperated.

Jesse let out a sniffle and raised his hands to cover his face. “I’m tired.”

“Jesus,” Walt sighed. He glanced at car wash and then at his watch. He was going to get an earful from Skyler. And he was literally so close. “Of course you’re tired. You were up all night.”

“No,” Jesse objected. His voice trembled slightly. “Of this.” He gestured at himself and sniffled again. “I’m tired of this. I want to be me and I want to go home.” He took a deep breath. “I need to smoke a bowl.”

“Smoke a bowl?” Walt echoed. “Really?” He took a deep breath himself. “Smoke a bowl,” he repeated again. 

Frustration heightened. He had to bring Jesse inside. He had to get him to straighten out. He was already late and trying to continue any of these conversations now was only going to exacerbate the problem. Responding to Jesse only seemed to provoke him more. 

But really, smoke a bowl? Walt thought irritably. And he wondered why he wasn’t going to be left alone…

He took another deep breath, ignoring the urge to rebuke him. Jesse was frustrated, understandably. Jesse never handled emotion well and now he was trapped in this child body. Walt understood all of that and simply wished he didn’t have to take it out on everyone.

But he also couldn’t very well have him in front of Skyler like this, referring to smoking bowls and otherwise speaking in profanity-laced language.  
How to appease him though. He could lie. He had lied to Jesse many times before. He could commit to taking him home and deal with the tantrum later when he refused. 

He rolled his eyes heavenward. Choosing between evils. 

He began reaching to simply pick him up, the easiest way to bring him inside, but stopped himself. That was just as negative as scolding him. Jesse had pointedly told him before not to pick him up. The last thing he needed was the kid getting even more aggravated. 

“Jesse.” He softened his voice. “Listen. I know you’re frustrated. Really.”

Jesse looked up at him, as though curious to the turn in the conversation, though his expression remained skeptical. 

Walt sighed. Knowing he would regret the words, he started to speak out of the interest of time and desperation. “Look, Jesse. Maybe you can stay at your place tonight. No promises. But let’s get through the next couple of hours- ”

“Say yes.” 

Walt sighed. Jesse’s blue eyes were optimistic. Should he? There was no way in hell he was staying at Jesse’s house. 

“Sure, Jesse,” he said, knowing he would hate himself later. And that Jesse would too. 

Jesse suddenly smiled, the frustration and furrowed brow leaving his face. Walt suddenly felt a pang of guilt, as Jesse was so easily manipulated, but it was short-lived as he focused on his next mission.

“Okay, come on.” He instinctively held out his hand, as though Jesse would take it. 

“I’m not holding your fucking hand,” came the annoyed response to the gesture.

Walt’s hand dropped to his side. “Fine. Come on.” He started to walk towards the office again, and only briefly glanced beside him to make sure that Jesse was following. 

He briefly glanced at his watch before walking through the door. Fifteen minutes late. Not the end of the world, but—

“You’re late,” came the inevitably criticism as they entered. 

Skyler stood behind the cashier’s desk with a look of annoyance on her face. Walt took a moment to take in the familiar way her hair was parted, the way the golden strands fell to her shoulders gracefully, and the gentle way she pursed her lips when she was angry.

“I know,” Walt acknowledged. He considered giving a crafted excuse, but Skyler cut him off before he could get another word in. 

“Who is that, Walt?” she asked, looking past him with raised her eyebrows. 

Walt glanced down at Jesse, who he now realized directly behind his leg, as though he was hiding. He probably was hiding, Walt thought wryly. Skyler wasn’t exactly exuding hospitality. And the interaction Jesse had in the past with Skyler wasn’t exactly positive. 

“This is… Johnny,” Walt answered slowly. He paused. “I don’t know if you remember him, but Ken, who used to work at the high school with me… He, uh… He gave me a call this morning, last minute, asking me to watch him... Random, I know. But his wife is having surgery, and he just needed a little help watching Johnny…” 

“And he asked you…” Sklyer spoke skeptically. 

“He doesn’t have much in terms of friends or family,” Walt answered with a shrug. Skyler was always so skeptical of him nowadays. It was frustrating, but at the same time he knew he had to act like there was nothing out of the ordinary so not to pique her uncertainty further. 

“How old is he?” 

“Six,” Walt answered. He glanced down at Jesse again and then nudged him. “Right, Johnny?”

Jesse looked up and scowled at him. 

Skyler was taking her purse from behind the cashier counter and didn’t seem to notice. “Well,” she spoke, unzipping the bag to remove a powder compact, “I don’t know how you expect to entertain a six year old and handle the customers.” She eyed her reflection in the compact mirror and briefly powdered her nose. “It’s been busy today.”

“He’s a good kid,” Walt answered. “We’ll be fine.”

“Even good kids get bored, Walt…” She put the compact back in her purse and gave Walt a pointed look. “Especially a six year old.”

“We’ll be fine,” he repeated. He noticed Jesse had wandered from him now, and was approaching the wall of hanging car air fresheners. He felt himself tense up slightly. Jesse hiding behind him felt like a more controllable situation.

Jesse reached for some of the air fresheners, pushing them to swing on their hooks. “I’m hungry,” he said.

“See that?” Skyler said, raising her eyebrows at Walt once again. She watched Jesse for a moment and then shook her head at Walt. “I can’t believe someone picked you to be a babysitter.” 

“Believe it or not, Skyler,” Walt answered, “someone did.” 

“I’m hungry,” Jesse repeated. He moved along the wall of air fresheners, tapping each one as he passed. 

“So what are you going to feed him?” Skyler asked. “Did you bring something?”

Walt shook his head. “He doesn’t need to eat.”

“When did he eat last?” 

“Earlier. He’s not hungry.”

“We didn’t eat anything today,” Jesse said, glancing at Walt briefly before turning his big blue eyes to Skyler.

“Anything?” Skyler echoed. She shot Walt a look. “Are you kidding, Walt? 

Walt’s mouth dropped open briefly, and then he shut it tightly while giving Jesse a look. He turned back to Skyler. “We ate,” he said stiffly.

“Kids need to eat,” Skyler said, almost in a lecturing tone. “And snack. Did you bring him any snacks?”

Walt sighed. “Aren’t you late, Skyler?” 

“I’m hungry,” Jesse repeated. 

Skyler frowned, looking at Jesse with a concerned expression. She turned back to Walt. “Seriously, Walt.”

“I’m serious,” Walt said stiffly. “We ate. He’s just being difficult.” He shot Jesse another look. Jesse returned the look with his own stubborn one. 

“Well…” Skyler’s voice was hesitant. She then glanced at her watch and sighed. “Okay, I need to go.” She looked at Jesse again before giving Walt another pointed look. “Please, feed him. And remember to be patient. I don’t know the last time you were in the same room as a six year old, never mind in charge of one.” 

“I’m sure we’ll survive,” he answered curtly. 

He watched Skyler put the strap of her bag over her shoulder. She reached for a pair of sunglasses and put them on her face. 

“I’ll call when I’m on my way back,” was the last thing she said before she left. 

As the door shut, Walt walked across the room to Jesse. Without saying anything, he slapped the back of his head. “What exactly is your problem?”

“Ow…” Jesse winced. He glared at Walt and then reached out to knock his arm into the wall of air fresheners. Several fell to the floor. He took a step forward and did the same thing again. 

Walt reached for him, but he darted away. 

“Don’t touch me!” he cried out. 

Walt narrowed his eyes. He was about to respond, when he noticed a couple outside the office door. He raised a finger to Jesse warningly. “Behave yourself,” he insisted. “Can you? For once?”

Jesse simply glared back.

The couple entered and Walt transformed his face to smile. “Hello,” he greeted. “Welcome to A1.” He glanced at the air fresheners on the floor and gestured to them with a chuckle. “Ignore the mess. Someone is redecorating.” 

The woman, presumably the wife, smiled and shook her head. “No problem. We have one around the same age at home. Is this your son?”

Walt shot a quick glance to Jesse, who was still scowling, and then nodded. “Yes. Yes, he is.” 

Jesse raised his eyebrows and Walt sighed. His only focus now was making it through the afternoon. 

\--------

Jesse became indignant the moment the couple left the office. He behaved himself while they were there, allowing Walt to conduct business. Walt managed to stay calm, showing signs of only slight unease. Walt kept his conversation with the couple professional, while his eyes kept scanning the room to find Jesse, who continued to roam. He purposefully continued to touch and pick up things only to contribute to the tension in the room. 

Once they were gone, Walt marched towards Jesse, who was standing in the corner across the room. 

He could see Jesse tense up, bracing himself. Walt felt himself glowering, and knew he looked annoyed. He was annoyed. More than annoyed. He was tired and frustrated, and wanted nothing more than to go back to ‘normal’, where he could just occasionally worry what asinine situation Jesse had gotten himself into rather than this constant babysitting. 

He sighed as he watched Jesse prematurely flinch as he got closer. He softened his expression slightly. “I’m not going to hit you,” he said.

Jesse’s composure didn’t change, as though he didn’t believe him. His posture remained stiff, and his expression suspicious. “This is why you should have let me go home.”

Walt sighed, sensing the return of the same endless conversation. He gave Jesse a firm look and then glanced over at the mess on the floor. He gestured at it. “You want to clean that up?”

“No,” Jesse responded petulantly. 

“No?” Walt echoed, his tone warning. 

Jesse chewed on his lower lip, hesitating as though uncertain of his next words. He was so used to testing his boundaries, but now he felt more tentative. After a pause and a glance over at the scattered air fresheners on the floor, he repeated himself. “No.” 

“Why are you pushing me, Jesse?” Walt asked him, feeling exasperated. 

Jesse returned his look with a frown. “I need to piss.” 

Walt stared at him until he blinked and looked away. Walt sighed. “You’re incorrigible.” 

Jesse’s face contorted slightly for a moment, as though trying to think of response. Walt was pretty sure he was also struggling to think of what the word incorrigible meant, which made it more difficult to find an appropriate comeback. 

“I really do need to piss,” Jesse repeated after a moment. 

Walt sighed, shaking his head briefly. He then pointed across the room to a door. “It’s there.” As Jesse started to walk towards that direction, he cleared his throat. “There’s a smoke detector.”

Jesse turned his head to send a glare. 

\-----------

Two customers later, Walt glanced towards the bathroom door. While having Jesse out of the room made completing sales easier, he started to feel uneasy after fifteen minutes passed and he didn’t hear a single peep from Jesse. 

After he delivered “have an A1 day” to the second customer and watched them leave the office, he walked over to the bathroom door and knocked.

No response.

He glanced back behind him to make sure there were no new customers and then knocked again. “Jesse.”

Still silence. 

He took a deep breath, staring at the wooden door. His hand reached for the knob of the door and was surprised as he turned it to find the door unlocked.

“Jesse,” he repeated, knocking one more time. “I’m going to come in…”

He sighed one more time, and then turned the knob fully and pushed open the door. 

His gut twisted as he saw the empty room. Sink, toilet, trash bin, and nothing else. He stared at the clean, sterile tile floors and then his eyes lifted to the window, where he noticed both the glass and screen pushed up. 

“Jesse…” he muttered under his breath, running a nervous hand over his head and closing his eyes briefly. “Jesus.” He took another deep breath. “Fuck.” He lifted his hand and slapped the wall of the bathroom with force. “Fuck!” His hand throbbed after the impact. 

He returned to the office and picked up the phone, immediately dialing Jesse’s cell phone from memory.

It rang twice before going to voicemail.

“Fuck,” he repeated. 

He looked around the office and felt trapped. There was nowhere he could go. He couldn’t leave the car wash. He would have to close and Skyler, and the rest of the employees, would be furious. He would have no explanation.

Jesse. That idiot. How often he acted on his emotions like a child before thinking anything through. Walt clenched his fists. You better hope I don’t find you while I’m as angry as now, he thought while shaking his head. 

Next his fury briefly changed to worry. Jesse was in a vulnerable state. What if he got hurt? What if someone else picked him up? Like the cops? What if he tried to drive again or something equally stupid?

Another customer came through the door and Walt had to redirect his thoughts to business. While distracted, he tried to conduct business normally, albeit rushed, and then focused again on Jesse after they left. 

With a sigh, he reached for his cell phone in his pocket and opened up to his contacts. 

After three rings, the gruff, deep voice filled the line. “Yes, Walter…?”

Walt hated that he had to make this phone call. “Mike,” he said slowly. 

“Is he back to normal?” Mike asked, voice gravelly. “Because otherwise, I see very little reason for you to be calling me.”

“Not quite,” Walt answered.

“Then I guess the conversation is over.”

“Mike,” Walt objected. “Listen. I called you because he’s gone.”

Mike was silent for a moment. Walt could hear his heart beating. 

“What do you mean by gone…?” Mike asked slowly. 

“I mean exactly that. He’s gone.” 

“I still don’t understand.”

Walt sighed. “He went to the bathroom. And out the window. He—”

“Just stop right there.” Mike echoed his own. “Walter. I’m recalling a conversation where I offered you, no—scratch that. Suggested to you, handcuffs. And you insisted you were more familiar with his behavior and that it wasn’t necessary.” 

“I don’t know what you want me to say, Mike,” Walt answered stiffly. “I can’t see how handcuffs would have helped while allowing him to take a piss.”

“I spend a lot of time with the kid,” Mike answered. “I know him. Especially when he wants something. There would have been no pissing alone.”

Walt rolled his eyes. “Well, Mike, I can’t say I predicted him going out the window. Congratulations if you would have.”

“So I suppose you’re calling me to help find him.”

“I can’t leave right now,” Walt answered. 

“This is kind of a priority, Walter,” Mike answered. “If anything happens to him, then we have a lot of explaining to do. Even worse, if the police find him or he does something even more idiotic, then we are in a situation that I don’t want to go near.”

“I understand.”

“I don’t need Gus to get involved.”

“Neither do I.”

“At least we agree on something,” Mike answered. He paused. “Listen. I’ll find him. I’m about twenty miles away, but I’ll head back to Albuquerque now.”

“He’s probably heading towards his house.” 

“That’s my first stop. 

Walt nodded to himself, eyes scanning the room. He looked at the air fresheners on the ground. “Be gentle with him.”

Mike laughed. “That I don’t promise. But I’ll find him.”

\-----------


	9. 9

Mike’s statement repeated itself in Walt’s head. He would find Jesse. Fine. All would be resolved.

The statement was a comfort at first. As much as he would never admit it to anyone, Mike did get things done. So of course finding Jesse would be a simple task. 

Walt remained confident in this until an hour passed. 

There was no call from Mike. 

The car wash had also become quiet as business slowed. A quiet office and slowed business only provided more time for thinking... It was the last thing Walt needed. 

Worried was an understatement to describe his current state. The sick, heavy weight in his stomach continued to further sink in and start to twist in his gut. 

His eyes moved to the clock for the second time in the last few minutes. Time couldn’t move slower. 

How far could Jesse really be in his current state? 

When he took his own quick bathroom break, he found his eyes locked on the window. He cursed to himself, shaking his head and thinking about all of the things he could have done differently to prevent this situation. 

Jesse… he thought. Wherever you are right now… Use your head. For once.

He was hopeful that Jesse would go to his house. He had no idea how the kid would manage to get there, but at least that’s where Mike would check first. Easy. If that were the scenario, then Mike would find him right away, and the only thing to worry about was whether Jesse would still be in one piece before Walt got there. 

For a six year old to make it a handful of miles across town though… A six year old with a twenty-five year old brain even… 

No one was going to pick up a hitchhiking child and agree to drop them at an arbitrary location.

He picked up his cell phone and stared at it. No missed calls. He had a signal as well. 

If the police picked up Jesse, Walt wasn’t sure what their procedure would be. He would be safe at least, but he wasn’t sure how they would try to prove his identity or where they might take him. They wouldn’t release a child without proof of a relationship or guardianship. And Jesse with his big mouth…

Not to mention the risk of Jesse suddenly returning to his normal state of being… 

They would never be able to explain that. They would probably treat him like a science experiment at that point. 

His phone began to ring. 

Walt’s heart skipped a beat and he quickly opened the phone to answer without even looking at the caller.

“Hello?”

There was a pause. “Walt,” came Skyler’s voice a moment later. “Sorry, didn’t expect you to pick up on the first ring… I’m on my way back, okay? I told you I would give you a call.” 

He sighed, letting out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. He closed his eyes and tried to clear his head. “Skyler,” he repeated. “Hi. Yes, of course. That’s fine. Thanks.” 

“Everything okay?” she answered, tone a bit skeptical. “You sound a bit… off. Everything alright over there?”

“No, no, I’m fine… The business is fine.” He took a deep breath and let it out as he reopened his eyes. “Just between customers.”

“Okay…” she answered slowly, tone skeptical. “I’ll see you in about twenty minutes.”

“Great. See you then.” He closed his eyes.

“And Johnny?” 

“Who?”

“Johnny…” Skyler’s voice shifted to frustration. “The little boy… The one that you’re baby-sitting?”

Walter clenched his fists, cursing at himself. “He’s fine,” he forced out. “Sorry. Yes, he’s right here.” He took a deep breath and composed himself. He cleared his throat. “Welcome to A1, I’ll be right with you,” he said loudly, pretending there were customers in front of him. He spoke softer into the phone. “Skyler, there are some people here - I have to go.”

“Sure,” she answered. “I’ll see you in a little bit, Walt…”

He closed his phone and then took a moment to reflect. He decided to dial Mike.

One ring passed.

Where could Jesse have possibly gone? 

Two rings.

The options were limited. And the rationale? 

Three rings. 

Of course Jesse had no rationale.

Walt started to consider what they could tell Gus. The relapse option was sounding most practical. 

As the phone went to an automated voicemail, Walt cursed and shoved it back into his pocket. 

Two more customers arrived in the next thirty minutes to wish an “A1 day” and Walt felt like he would burst. 

Skyler was the next one to arrive. Walt allowed himself to take a deep breath and let it out slowly in an attempt at relaxation before she made it halfway across the room. 

“So it’s not too busy?” she asked.

He nodded in confirmation as he noted the attempt at small talk. He was fine with small talk if it meant he could exit uneventfully. “It was busy for a little while… Been quiet since you called.”

She nodded. “And Johnny?” Her eyes searched the room. 

“Oh. Johnny’s father… Uh, he picked him up maybe twenty minutes ago…” Walt answered. 

She nodded blankly.

“I should get going,” he persisted. 

“Oh?” She raised her eyebrows.

“Skyler,” he began, shaking his head. “Are we going to get into this again?”

“What’s ‘this’, exactly, Walter?”

Walter glanced towards the door and then back at his wife. “Skyler…” he trailed off, frustrated. “Nothing…” He forced a smile. “I need to go, but let’s talk tomorrow, okay?”

She eyed him with wariness but nodded. “Tomorrow. Fine.”

Walt glanced at his watch again before then pulling out his cell phone. No missed calls.

“Tomorrow,” he agreed.

Once outside, Walt found the fresh air slightly calming, but could still hear his every heart beat until as he walked to his car. 

It was when he actually reached his car that his heart stopped.

He looked through the car window and saw six-year old Jesse sleeping on his back seat.


	10. Chapter 10

Once outside, Walt found the fresh air slightly calming, but could still hear his every heart beat until as he walked to his car. 

It was when he actually reached his car that his heart stopped.

He looked through the car window and saw six-year old Jesse sleeping on his back seat. 

For a moment he was shocked. He remained still as the seconds passed, standing next to his car, dumbfounded. His eyes were locked on the back passenger window. 

Next, his hands fumbled to reach his pockets. He felt his wallet but struggled to find his keys.

They were gone. 

His eyes slowly went back to the car, and to Jesse. Panic and fear had disappeared. His heart was pounding again, but this time with frustration. 

His hand went to the door handle and he pulled. It was locked. 

He tried the front door. Locked as well. There were two doors to try on the other side of the car, but he knew those would be locked as well. 

He took a deep breath and then pounded his hand on the window next to where Jesse was sleeping.

Jesse immediately awoke, snapping to an upright position and staring out the window at Walt. He looked startled. 

“Open the door, Jesse,” Walt directed, trying to keep his voice calm. He spoke loudly, wondering if Jesse could hear him through the window. It was hard to speak loudly and not outright yell. He knew if he yelled, Jesse would make unlocking the car doors a much bigger ordeal than it had to be. 

Jesse eyed him warily and said nothing. 

Walt narrowed his eyes slightly and took a deep breath. He spoke in the same tone again. “Can you hear me?”

After what appeared to be a few seconds of hesitation, Jesse nodded. 

“Then don’t make me tell you again. Open the door.”

Jesse slumped his shoulders a little and then begrudgingly reached over to the lock on the door next to him. His hand faltered there and he looked up at Walt again. 

“Are you mad?” he asked. 

“No,” Walt lied while thinking to himself what a stupid question that was. Of course he was going to say no. Any other answer would result in a power of wills and words until finding a way to convince him to open the door. 

“Are you sure?” Jesse asked suspiciously, raising his eyebrows. 

“Jesse,” Walt started slowly. “If you don’t want me mad, then open the God damn door… “

That seemed to be enough for Jesse and his hand connected with the lock. He pushed it to the unlock position and immediately Walt pulled open the door. 

As if sensing Walt’s true mood, Jesse slid himself further across the seat, towards the other door. 

“No games,” Walt warned. “I don’t have time for games.”

“You said you weren’t mad,” Jesse reminded, remaining still. 

“I lied.” 

“I couldn’t stay in there, Mr. White,” Jesse objected, trying to explain himself. “I couldn’t just pretend in there. And I knew you wouldn’t let me go anywhere, so what choice did I have?”

“What the hell is wrong with you?”

“What?”

“Honestly, I feel like I have to ask you this constantly, Jesse,” Walt continued, voice stiff with an edge of anger. His held one hand on the top of the open car door and leaned into the car. “What made you think going out a window was a good idea?”

“But I didn’t go anywhere,” Jesse protested, voice earnest and a little desperate. “Mr. White, no matter what I do—“

“I didn’t know where the hell you were,” Walt snapped. 

“Well, I didn’t see you come out to look for me,” Jesse retorted, somewhat bitterly. “Yo, thanks for caring.”

“Mike is out there looking for you,” Walt pointed his finger out to the street, out to the distance. He didn’t know where he was pointing.

Jesse’s eyes widened slightly. “Why?”

“Because, Jesse.” Walt shook his head. “I thought you took off! How the hell was I supposed to know where you were?”

“You coulda looked…” Jesse trailed off meekly. “Where’s Mike now?”

“I don’t know,” Walt answered. “Planning a slow and painful death for you, I’m sure.” He rubbed a hand over his face. He didn’t know how Mike would react when he found out Jesse had been just outside of the car wash the whole time. 

“That’s not fair. I didn’t go anywhere,” Jesse repeated defensively. “You know, Mr. White, whatever I do, you’re always gonna be pissed. You’re always gonna tell me that I messed up. It doesn’t matter what choice I make, if—“

“Jesse, the choice is easy,” Walt interrupted. “You do what I say. How hard is that?”

Jesse chewed on his lower lip with a frown on his face. “Is Mike really looking for me?”

“He said he was going to.” 

“Can you, like, call him? And tell him it was your fault?”

“My fault?” Walt echoed incredulously. 

“Yeah. Because it is your fault.”

“How is it my fault that you didn’t listen to me?”

“Because you totally overreacted,” Jesse responded, a whine in his voice. “I’ll tell him myself.” He reached into his pocket for his phone.

“Your phone is dead,” Walt informed him. 

Jesse looked at the blank screen of the phone and then back at Walter questioningly. 

“You don’t think I tried to call you?” Walt persisted. 

Jesse put the phone back into his pocket slowly.

“Anything else in your pockets?” Walt asked irritably. “Like my car keys?”

“They’re on the front seat,” Jesse answered bitterly. “Can you call Mike?”

Walt first peered into the front seat window to confirm his car keys. Then he returned his attention to the passenger row. “I just tried him not long ago, Jesse. He didn’t answer.” Walt watched Jesse’s face. He was terrified of Mike and the uncertainty on his face was evident. He looked pale and pathetic. “How did you get my keys?”

“Easily…” Jesse mumbled. 

“Easily?” Walt repeated. “Meaning what, exactly? You pick-pocketed me?” 

Jesse nodded and then smirked a little bit, as though proud of himself. “Street smarts, yo.” 

Walt shook his head in exasperation. With his experience with Jesse, the hint of a smile on Jesse’s face over so-called ‘street smarts’ was almost charming, but it wasn’t enough to change his mood or the course of the day. Even if he wanted to smile back, he couldn’t find it in himself to do it.

“So…” Jesse began.

Walt struggled with next steps. Part of him remained angry, irritated at the situation, especially not knowing how Mike would react. On the other hand, he was relieved. Jesse was safe, though still stupid, but at least his well-being wasn’t an outstanding concern.

“What’s next?” Jesse persisted, breaking the silence.

“Let’s go to your house,” Walt answered. He took a deep breath and let it out as a sigh. 

Jesse smiled. “Yeah. My house. Let’s go.”


	11. Chapter 11

\-----------

“So we’re going to my house, right?” Jesse asked. 

Walt glanced at his rear view mirror to view Jesse in the back seat. “You’ve asked me three times already. Do you not believe me?”

Jesse’s brow furrowed. It was obvious that he was skeptical.

“Do you?” Walt asked again.

“I believe you…” came the slow, tentative response.

“So why are you asking me that? Am I not driving the right way?” Walt persisted.

“You are…” Jesse admitted. “It’s just…” he trailed off. “Okay.” 

Walt sighed and adjusted his hands on the steering wheel. After he had suggested going to Jesse’s house, the younger man had been on best behavior. He willingly sat in the back seat, and put his seatbelt on without being reminded. He had been relatively quiet. In fact, he almost seemed relaxed.

Walt wished there was a way to extend the acquiescent state of Jesse, but like all good things, knew it would be gone sooner or later. The only thing that seemed to be lingering was the child-size of Jesse. 

They were halfway to the house when his phone began to ring. 

Keeping his left hand on the wheel, he glanced briefly from the road down to reach into his pocket with his other hand and pull out his cell phone. 

He looked at the digital screen and saw Mike’s name flashing.

He sighed out loud. “This conversation was inevitable,” he muttered softly. 

It was loud enough to get Jesse’s attention. “What? Mr. White, who is it?”

“Who do you think?” Walt responded dryly. He took a deep breath and flipped open the phone, just as the light in front of him turned red. He slowed the car to a stop. 

He brought the phone to his ear. “Hello, Mike.” 

Glancing in the rear view mirror, he could see Jesse’s brow furrow, icy blue eyes now clouding over with diffidence when he heard Mike’s name. 

“Hello, Walter,” came Mike’s solemn voice over the line. He sounded slightly annoyed. “I see that I missed a call from you earlier… What now? Anything else disappear from you watch?” 

“No, Mike…” Walt answered, biting his lip to keep from making a snide comment back. “In fact, something re-appeared…”

A beat passed. “What’s that supposed to mean, exactly?”

Walt glanced again at the mirror and watched Jesse fidgeting with his seatbelt. He met his eye briefly and then returned his eyes to the road. The light was now green. 

“He’s with me,” Walt answered, pushing his foot down gently on the accelerator. 

“With you?” Mike echoed. 

“That’s why I called earlier,” Walt answered. He paused. “He… He came back.”

“Yo, I never went anywhere!” Jesse cried out from the backseat. Walt glanced at him briefly and could see him unbuckle his seatbelt.

He started to feel uneasy. He wished he wasn’t driving while having this conversation. 

“Came back from where?” Mike asked slowly. “Where was he?”

He had just reached the speed limit when he felt Jesse’s hand on his right arm, tugging. He kept that arm stiff and then changed his phone to his other hand, switching his right hand to the steering wheel. He ignored the sound of Jesse saying his name. 

“Walt,” Mike was saying. “Are you there.”

“Yes, yes, I’m here,” Walt answered stiffly. 

“Don’t lie to him!” Jesse protested. He continued to stretch his arm over the driver’s seat to try to reach the phone. 

“Jesse,” Walt hissed, holding the phone against his chest momentarily. “You need to stop. Right now. Or do I need to pull over?”

“Yes!” Jesse pleaded. “Pull over!” 

Walt rolled his eyes, realizing Jesse completely missed his half-baked threat, and focused back on the conversation. 

“What’s going on right now?” Mike asked skeptically, likely overhearing the commotion. “Walter, why do I always get the sense that you have zero control over that kid? Listen…”

“Nothing is going on.” Walter worked his jaw, irritably. He wished he had a third arm to reach back and throttle Jesse. “Where are you?”

“I’m at the kid’s house…” Mike answered. “I just arrived. Surprise – he’s not here… Thank you for taking care of solving the next step of that mystery for me.”

“We’ll meet you there,” Walt answered. 

“Where?” Jesse asked from behind him, finger poking into Walt’s shoulder.

The line clicked and went dead, and Walt knew Mike had hung up on him. He closed the phone and changed hands to drop it on the passenger seat next to him. 

He then clenched both his hands tightly on the steering wheel and focused on the road in front of him. 

“Where?” Jesse insisted, raising his voice as if volume was the only reason Walt wasn’t answering. “What’d Mike say?”

“Jesse. You need to sit back and put your seatbelt back on.”

“Yo. Where are we going?” Jesse grouchily sat back in the back seat but made no move to touch the seatbelt. 

“I told you. Your house.”

“Why?”

“Jesse,” Walt glanced at him in the mirror. “Can you not put two and two together?”

Jesse’s brow wrinkled again. “Why’s Mike at my house?”

Walt sighed. Apparently not. “Did you forget that you were missing, Jesse?” he asked in a condescending tone. “Where do you think someone would check first if they were trying to find someone?”

Jesse grunted and then squirmed in his seat. 

“What?” Walt glanced at him, sensing his uneasiness. “Now you don’t want to go home?”

“I don’t want Mike pissed at me,” Jesse countered petulantly. “Personally, I don’t think I was really missing, yo, so the whole situation is kinda unfair.”

“He won’t be pissed,” Walt answered mechanically. 

Jesse let out a sarcastic laugh. “Yeah? Bullshit.” He slouched down in his seat. “You’re the one insisting that I went missing, so you’re really gonna help that case.” He paused. “You know what? I give up. We can go to your condo if you want.”

While Walt would much prefer to go to his condo, he wasn’t about to call Mike to explain a change in plans due to Jesse being scared of him. “No, Jesse. Come on.” 

“You didn’t even want to go to my house.”

As if Walt needed a reminder. “Eventually we need to see Mike.”

“Why? Don’t you know Mike? He’s just gonna want to beat the shit out of me.” 

Walt sighed and shook his head. “I won’t let him. We’ll explain.”

“Good luck with that…” Jesse answered cynically. “And after that we’re just going to talk about how I’m still not myself, and the days we have until it’s an issue with Gus, and—”

“Jesse…” Walt placated. 

“All I’m saying is that it’s really not even worth it, and–”

“Enough. We’ll be there in ten minutes.”

Jesse shifted in his seat and muttered something under his breath. 

\--------


	12. Chapter 12

Walt expected, and dreaded, another argument when they arrived at Jesse’s house. The kid had become surprisingly quiet during the ten minutes it took to drive to his house, and Walt could only imagine that the time had been spent coming up with the most persuasive argument that Jesse could muster to convince Walt to drive somewhere else. 

When he pulled up to the curb and put the car in park, he hesitated for a moment before turning to look at Jesse. He was surprised to see Jesse simply unclip his seatbelt and reach for the door. 

As if sensing the eyes on him, Jesse’s hand faltered before reaching the door, and his head turned towards Walt in the driver’s seat. “What?” he asked, somewhat nervously. 

“Nothing.” Walt shook his head. He studied Jesse closely. “You’re just… quiet. That’s all.”

Jesse scowled slightly. “So?”

“So, you’re never quiet…” Walt responded matter-of-factly. 

The scowl turned into a glare. 

Walt cleared his throat and tried to brush it off. If he wasn’t careful, he was going to start the argument himself. Taking a deep breath, he glanced towards Jesse’s house. “Alright, let’s get this over with, shall we?”

“Easy for you to say,” Jesse muttered. 

It was at that point that Walt had a second thought of trepidation. It was Jesse’s tone, or the situation itself, that made him realize that the next minute may not go as planned. Not that he had a specific plan in mind. Just to get through the rest of the day without any new drama. And it was clear that the next few minute could create much more than just drama. 

He quickly reached over to the automatic lock button on the door and pressed it. 

Jesse heard the deep click sound of the locks and then pulled on his door handle to confirm. “What the hell, Mr. White? Are we going in or what?”

Walt turned in his seat to study Jesse again. On the kid’s face was a mix of confusion and apprehension. “We are going in, Jesse, but you need to promise me one thing. No surprises.”

“Huh?” Jesse’s brow furrowed and he leaned back in his seat. “What does that even mean, Mr. White? I don’t know what Mike’s gonna—”

“Not Mike. You.”

“Me?”

“Yes, you. No surprises. No games. No running off,” Walt explained. 

“Running where?” Jesse retorted in exasperation. “Where the hell would I run?” 

Walt was relieved, though skeptical, that the thought hadn’t crossed Jesse’s mind. Either that, or Jesse’s acting or lying skills had improved considerably. 

“I know you’re understandably nervous about Mike,” Walt continued, “but if we can just—”

“Wait, what?” Jesse interrupted. “Understandably? So I should be nervous?” He looked aghast. “What happened to your whole idea of just ‘explaining’ and ‘he won’t be pissed’ and all that bullshit you just told me back at the carwash? You just said all that stuff?”

Walt took a deep breath and realized he should have just kept his mouth shut. “That’s not what I meant, Jesse. Absolutely not.” 

“Then what the hell do you mean?”

“Forget it.” Walt shook his head. 

“Forget it? No, Mr. White. Seriously. What did you mean?”

“I mean you have nothing to be worried about, Jesse, so you shouldn’t overreact.” Walt unclicked his seatbelt and then reached back again to unlock Jesse’s door. “Like you are right now. Let’s just go in there, get the air cleared, and that’s it.”

“Then what?” 

“Let’s get through one thing at a time, Jesse, alright?”

“Then what?” Jesse stressed the question. 

That was one question that Walt did not have an answer to, nor did he want to speculate. Deciding not to bother answering and getting Jesse even more vexed, he opened his car door and stepped outside. He shut, almost slammed, the door behind him.

Jesse was outside the car seconds later. “Mr. White,” he persisted, looking up at the older man with a scowl. “You didn’t answer my question.”

Walt stared at Jesse without much emotion. “What do you want me to say, Jesse? I’m tired of this too, and I don’t know what’s next. You want me to make something up?” 

Jesse paused, and then shrugged. 

Walt rolled his eyes. Jesse was always looking for him to spell out the next steps, but Walt didn’t have it in him. “Let’s focus on this,” he gestured at the house, “and explain the situation to Mike, and then we’ll see.”

“We’ll see,” Jesse muttered under his breath, kicking at a stone on the street. “We’ll see... Fucking great.”

“Trust me, Jesse. I’m just as thrilled about this as you.” Walt started walking towards the front door. He glanced behind him to see Jesse following, nearly dragging his feet. He resisted the urge to reach back and take Jesse’s hand, or even pick him up. He couldn’t help but retain an edge of nervousness that any second, the kid was going to bolt. Walt had longer legs, but he wasn’t very confident he could catch him. On the other hand, he got the sense that touching him at that moment would just make the situation worse. 

Fortunately Jesse stayed on course following behind him and they reached the front door.

“I’m nervous,” Jesse whispered as Walt reached for the doorknob.

Walt didn’t respond as he turned the knob and pushed the door open. He walked in and Jesse followed. He realized Jesse was keeping unusually close to him, and realized the kid was ensuring he had a buffer between himself and Mike. Probably not a bad idea.

Mike was sitting on the couch. The room was quiet, television off. The lights were off as well, and with the late afternoon sun, the room was dimly lit. 

Mike turned his head as they walked into the room, but remained seated. His expression was stoic, lips pressed tightly together. He remained silent even as Walt and Jesse approached and finally found themselves in front of him. 

It was as usual difficult to gauge Mike’s mood. Walt had a feeling that ‘happy’ Mike was no less apathetic than livid Mike. 

After a moment passed, Walt wondered if Mike was waiting for one of them to speak first. Before he could think of anything to start with, Jesse beat him to it. 

“I was never missing,” Jesse said, words rushed, almost jumbled together.

Mike’s eyebrows rose. “Oh?” he asked. He slowly got to his feet. “That so?” 

“I wasn’t,” Jesse insisted. He tugged at Walt’s pant leg. “Mr. White. Tell him.”

Walt rolled his eyes heavenward and shook his head. “Jesse…” 

“Was he missing or not, Walt?” Mike asked, tone slightly impatient. “Let’s cut to the chase. Because in my mind, there are two possible options here. Either he was missing…” He gave Jesse a pointed look and Jesse’s gaze dropped to the floor. “Or…” his eyes shifted to Walk, “he wasn’t missing, and I wasted my afternoon…” He cleared his throat. “So. Which one is it?” 

“In which one are you not pissed at me?” Jesse asked softly, still staring at the floor. 

“Well, Walter? Which one is it?” Mike repeated, keeping his eyes on Walt and ignoring Jesse’s interjections. “Forgive me if I’m missing something, but it doesn’t seem like rocket science to me…”

Walt felt Jesse’s hand tug at his pant leg again, but ignored him. “Well, if we’re going off of technicalities, Mike,” he began in a stiff voice, “and if you’re asking whether there was a period of time that I didn’t know where he was… Then yes. When I called you, I had no idea where he was. End of story.” He couldn’t help but feel a slight pang of guilt that he was ignoring Jesse, but to him the events were pretty straightforward. If Mike wanted to be pissed, then he could be, but Walt didn’t have the patience to be looked at with his condescension. 

“Hey!” Jesse cried out. He punched Walt in the leg with his small fist. “Really, Mr. White?”

“Is that true, Kid?” Mike asked, eyeing Jesse skeptically.

“No!” Jesse insisted earnestly. 

Mike scrutinized him and worked his jaw slowly. “Did you, or did you not, leave the carwash?” 

Jesse’s brow furrowed. He opened his mouth to answer and then closed it, as though rethinking his response. Then he simply said, “That’s not a fair question.”

“Oh, it is, Kid…” Mike responded. “And it’s an easy one. There are only two possible answers here as well: yes, or no. Did you leave the carwash?”

“Well, I’m here now so I guess the answer is yes, Mike,” Jesse answered sarcastically. 

“Enough with the smart mouth,” Mike snapped. “You know damn well what I’m asking you, so don’t be a smartass.” He took a step towards Jesse and the kid took a step back. “Answer the question.” 

“That’s not fair,” Jesse persisted, whining. “I was in Mr. White’s car. I wasn’t missing.”

“Did he know you were there?” Mike asked. 

Jesse shrugged, chin dropping to his chest. He kicked at an invisible spot on the floor. 

“Again, Kid… Not a difficult question. Yes, or no?”

“He should have known…” Jesse muttered. 

“Coulda, woulda, shoulda… Not one of the options,” Mike answered curtly. 

Jesse glared at Walt, a small embodiment of anger. Walt sensed his accusatory thoughts of being thrown under the bus and sighed. 

“Look, Mike… To be completely transparent here…” Walt began, “he was just outside the carwash. I probably shouldn’t have panicked, and maybe could have checked the car, but—”

“But you didn’t know where he was,” Mike finished. “Because he was missing.”

“I wasn’t,” Jesse grumbled. 

“Kid, it’s a lot more black and white than you’re making it.” 

“Mike,” Walt continued, feeling drained, “he will continue to debate the semantics with you until you’re both blue in the face. There was no ill intention here, and—”

“So I pretty much wasted an afternoon, Walter, is that what you’re saying?” Mike raised his eyebrows. 

Walt raised his eyebrows back, wondering whether Mike was challenging him in some sort of way. He wanted to express back how he had wasted his afternoon, baby-sitting. 

“You have an incredible track record of losing track of your partner, Walter,” Mike continued. “And you,” his eyes shot down to Jesse, “have an incredible track record of fucking up.” He shook his head. “Combined? This has been one hell of a nightmare.”

“Oh yeah?” Jesse shot back petulantly. “Well, you have a incredible track record of being a pain in the ass!” 

“Jesse…” Walt warned. 

Mike chuckled to himself, smirking for a moment. “Really, Kid?” He chuckled again and then shook his head, walking a couple steps away with his back to them, as if taking a moment to calm himself. He continued shaking his head. 

Walt was about to say something, to try to appease the moment, when Jesse suddenly retracted on his promise to stay put and abruptly bolted towards the stairs. Walt watched him scramble up the stairs, as fast as small legs would take him, and didn’t bother to go after him. Upstairs was better than out the door. 

Mike turned back around just as they heard the sound of a door slamming shut upstairs. He met Walter’s eyes with a listless look. “I’m close to done with this shit, Walter… I really am.” He let out a deep sigh. “Are you going to have an issue with me going up there and beating the shit out of him?” 

“Mike…” Walt shook his head. “Listen. I overreacted by calling you today. I should have known he was around somewhere... I take full responsibility, and this whole thing could have been avoided. Is he acting up? Sure, but after the last couple of days, what do you expect? This is Jesse we’re talking about here. Did you really expect anything less?”

Mike remained expressionless. “Is that a yes or no?”

“What are you going to prove?”

“I’m not trying to prove anything. I’m teaching. Something called respect.”

“Mike.” Walt rolled his eyes. 

“Do you know what I found in here while I was waiting for you two to get here?” Mike continued. “Do you know the amount of illegal shit he still has in this house?”

“He’s not using it.”

“Then why does he have it?”

“Maybe he hasn’t done his spring cleaning yet, Mike, I don’t know,” Walt answered sarcastically. Doing a narcotics search on the kid’s house when he had continued to appear sober every day hadn’t been a top priority on his list. “Do you really think telling him you searched his house is going to make this situation any better?” 

Mike didn’t respond right away except to cross his arms over his chest. Then he sighed. “Listen, Walt. You can give him as many free passes as you want, but it sure as hell isn’t getting you anywhere. Maybe if you just nipped it in the bud, he would respect you, and we wouldn’t be wasting all this time.” 

“I get the sense you’re blaming me for something,” Walt said stiffly. 

“Not blaming you for anything, Walter…” Mike answered slowly. “I just think today was a big waste of time for both of us. 

“Well, let’s agree then, and move on.” Walt glanced towards the stairs. “What now?”


	13. Chapter 13

“Well, let’s agree then, and move on.” Walt glanced towards the stairs. “What now?”

Mike frowned. “What now?” he repeated. “You really think I have an answer to that?” He shook his head. “Listen, Walter… To be honest with you, knocking some sense into the kid was about as far as I’d gotten relative to plans...” He raised his eyebrows at the other man questionably. “You do realize it’s hard to plan a next step when his own partner can barely keep track of him…?”

Walt narrowed his eyes slightly, knowing that Mike would continue to take a casual jab at him at any opportunity. On one hand, he urged himself to ignore it and to take the high road. But his pride won and he felt the need to defend himself. “While I appreciate the sarcasm, Mike… I really wonder what you would have done differently…”

Mike chuckled. “Oh, is that right?” He allowed a rare smirk to cross his lips. “Well, the first difference that comes to mind, and the option you’ll recall I generously offered to you, Walter, involves handcuffs.”

Walt nodded with feigned agreement before responding sarcastically, “I meant to ask you about that… Is it hard to find child-sized handcuffs, Mike?” When Mike didn’t initially react, he continued. “Because I find it hard to believe that Jesse wouldn’t pull a similar disappearing routine in your plan.” 

“Trust me…” Mike answered stoically, obviously annoyed by the question. “He wouldn’t.” 

Sure, Walt thought sarcastically while not voicing an opinion and resisting rolling his eyes. Challenging him wouldn’t achieve anything beyond a few seconds of satisfaction, to be replaced with further tension in the room and perhaps more heated confrontation. Instead, he tried to remain as serious as Mike. “I am curious,” he began in a lighter tone after a moment passed, “whether you’ve ever actually used that tactic on him before.”

“Tactic? You mean handcuffs?” Mike asked. He looked thoughtful for a moment, as if searching his memory, and then slowly shook his head. “I haven’t actually... Threats are usually effective enough with the kid…”

Of course, Walt thought. Mike was always just threats, big talk with a tone of bravado, and that was it. Walt struggled to think of a time where Mike had actually acted on his words. As aggravated and annoyed as Mike got, there was no denying that a key aspect of his role was actually to protect Jesse. Any aggravation usually stemmed more from Jesse making it a harder job than it had to be, or Walt interfering. 

Regardless, even Walt had to admit that Mike was pretty good at his job. 

Before he could actually make a comment, Walt was distracted by a sudden beeping noise. He knew from the sound that it wasn’t his phone or a device he recognized, and he watched Mike remove his own phone from his pocket. 

Mike flipped it open and stared at the screen. His face remained emotionless, jaw tightening slightly, but his mood was revealed when a curt, “Fucking great…” escaped his lips. “Just what we need.” 

“What is it?” Walt shifted his weight in his stance, watching Mike’s expression. 

Mike muttered another curse under his breath and looked up at Walt with a sigh. “Well, Walter… Your little vacation is coming to an end…” He cleared his throat, closing the phone and returning it to his pocket. “That was an update on the lab. You are back in business starting tomorrow…”

Walt was about to remind Mike that this was hardly a ‘vacation’, and in fact he hadn’t even taken a vacation in a long time, but the update to the lab caught him too off guard to vocalize that just yet. It was news that he’d known was coming any day, but in the back of his mind, he had continued pushing off the thought of its inevitability. 

“Excuse me?” he asked. 

“You heard me,” Mike answered brusquely. He cocked his head to his side and studied Walt. “You look surprised.”

Walt let out the breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. “Surprised?” he echoed. “No… I’m not surprised. I knew this was coming.”

“I might be able to buy us another day or two…” Mike said slowly, tone shifting to more thoughtful. “But that’s it. After that, you’re a one-man operation unless the kid’s situation changes.” 

Walt was pleasantly surprised at the news of an additional day or two but didn’t admit to it. He would take a day or two if possible, but remained skeptical. 

“In any case,” Mike continued, “I need to sort out the situation with the kid before we decide what to do.” He started to walk towards the stairs. “Let’s get this over with.” 

“Mike,” Walt began as the man passed him. 

Mike turned briefly and met his eyes. “I won’t touch a hair on his head, Walter,” he said with a sigh, as if reading his mind. “Come on.” 

Walt followed, remaining silent. He had the sense that Mike had calmed down considerably since Jesse had initially run upstairs. He hoped Jesse had too and that they would all survive the next few minutes without any unnecessary drama. 

Walking up the stairs, it suddenly crossed his mind that in the time that he and Mike took to talk, Jesse could be gone. Upstairs had been considerably quiet during their conversation, not that he specifically was listening for anything in particular. 

He had no idea whether there was a way to exit from upstairs, but the thought of Jesse trying to escape through a window crossed his mind and made his stomach turn. He suddenly remembered that first time since high school graduation that he had seen Jesse again. That fateful day tagging along with Hank to a drug bust when he observed Jesse escaping out the window of a neighboring house, struggling to clothe himself in the process. Finding out that Jesse was “Captain Cook” had started this whole new life. 

In a way, that moment had gotten he, Jesse, and Mike in this current situation. 

Walt let out a deep breath, pushing away thoughts of the past. He remained focused on the fear of current small Jesse disappearing. However, his fear was short-lived, as they soon reached Jesse’s bedroom and found him there. 

Jesse was sitting on his bed, leaning back against the headboard with his legs stretched out in front of him. His head was tilted back, as though he was staring at the ceiling. His arms were crossed across his chest tightly. 

“Listen, Kid,” Mike started, taking a few steps into the room to stand beside Jesse’s bed. “I’m going to move past what just happened. We need to cut the bullshit and talk about what the plan is here. Are you ready to talk?”

Jesse didn’t response right away.

The first thing that Walt noticed was that Jesse seemed a little too relaxed. He didn’t expect to find him just lying there, and certainly didn’t expect such a non-reaction to their entering his room. Jesse’s defensiveness seemed to have dissipated and his tenseness was replaced with a placidness that was clear in his lax posture.

At the sound of Mike’s voice, Jesse tilted his head from staring at the ceiling to bring his chin down, looking straight ahead at them. His lips curled just slightly as though in a smirk.

“You thought you found it all,” Jesse responded to Mike. 

Mike scowled. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“But… you didn’t.” Jesse’s voice slurred slightly. “You didn’t find it all. And I can tell you looked…”

“Jesse,” Walt began, frowning slightly. “Are you okay?” He moved further into the room beside Mike. 

“You didn’t find it,” Jesse repeated, almost in a sing-song voice.

“Kid,” Mike started. He moved towards the bed now, almost with a sense of urgency. “What did you take?”

Jesse’s face split into a grin, and he tilted his head back again, laughing softly. He relaxed further into the bed, slouching down into the mattress. “What didn’t you find?” he responded.


	14. Chapter 14

“You thought you found it all,” Jesse responded to Mike. 

Mike scowled. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“But… you didn’t.” Jesse’s voice slurred slightly. “You didn’t find it all. And I can tell you looked…”

“Jesse,” Walt began, frowning slightly. “Are you okay?” He moved further into the room beside Mike. 

“You didn’t find it,” Jesse repeated, almost in a sing-song voice.

“Kid,” Mike started. He moved towards the bed now, almost with a sense of urgency. “What did you take?”

Jesse’s face split into a grin, and he tilted his head back again, laughing softly. He relaxed further into the bed, slouching down into the mattress. “What didn’t you find?” he responded.

“God damn it,” Mike said emphatically. 

Walt stood motionless for a moment, dumbfounded. As far as he could tell, other than pot and cigarettes, Jesse had been clean in the recent weeks. While Walt would have preferred the absence of pot and cigarettes as well, they pacified his young friend, and for that he begrudgingly usually overlooked it. Beyond that, Jesse had been in control of himself. For him to have taken something, now in his current six-year-old state, left Walt in disbelief. 

Jesse hummed a little, almost like he was pleased with himself, before closing his eyes with a sigh. 

Walt watched Mike, who had moved into action. Mike leaned forward over the bed, reaching out a hand to touch Jesse’s cheek. His touch was forceful yet gentle. Jesse made no signs of acknowledging the contact and remained quiet with his eyes closed.

“Jesse,” Mike spoke forcefully, raising his voice to be louder than usual. He moved his hand to grasp Jesse’s jaw. “Jesse, can you hear me?”

Walt realized it was one of the few times that he’d heard Mike use Jesse’s name, rather than the nickname ‘Kid.’ 

He realized Mike was actually worried. 

Jesse’s eyes opened again briefly and he looked at Mike as though he was looking through him. “Mike,” he whispered. 

“Kid,” Mike continued. “Look at me. In the eyes.” He sighed as Jesse closed his eyes again. He dropped his hand from Jesse’s jaw to instead deliver a soft slap to his cheek. “Hey. Jesse. What did you take?” He patted his cheek firmly again. 

Jesse’s face contorted into a scowl and he squirmed, opening his eyes. He tilted his head to the side, not responding. He instead yawned deeply.

Mike turned to look at Walt now. “This isn’t your stuff,” he said stiffly, referring to their methamphetamine business. “What else does he have?”

“What?” Walt asked, thrown off by the question. “What do you mean?”

“I mean…” Mike said rigidly, mood obviously darkening, “what else have you seen him with? Pills? Needles? What would he have access to?”

Walt searched his memory, struggling. “I…” He shook his head. “I don’t know,” he admitted honestly. “He’s been clean. Believe it or not… But in terms of access? I mean, with the people he calls ‘friends’, then it runs the gamut.” He shook his head. “You’re the one that searched his house, Mike. What did you find?”

“I got rid of what I found, Walter,” Mike nearly growled, eyes narrowing. “Apparently I ‘didn’t find it all’, to quote your partner…” 

With that Mike turned back to Jesse and did another quick exam – he first pressed fingers against Jesse’s throat. Walt wasn’t sure if he was checking for swelling or a pulse. Next he took Jesse’s arm by the wrist, pushing up the sleeve of his shirt to view his bare skin. He did the same with his other arm. Jesse fidgeted slightly at the attention, and muttered something, but otherwise reacted minimally. 

“I need to make a call,” Mike said. “Try to keep him awake.”

Walt frowned as he watched Mike take out his cell phone. Mike’s voice was fairly calm but suddenly Walt got a sense of unease. “Is he okay?”

Mike met his eye briefly and repeated, “I need to make this call, Walter. Be ready to move him to your car.”

Walt swallowed uneasily as Mike then moved to step out of the room with his phone to his ear. He moved towards Jesse and revisited Mike’s suggestion to keep him awake. 

He’d seen Jesse out of his mind on drugs before. He’d seen his highs and lows. He’d seen him at dangerous levels, and while it always pained him, that was at least Jesse grown; what would the impact be on a child? How would that translate into real Jesse? Walt cursed to himself. Stupid, Jesse, he thought. Why do you have to be so stupid?

He suddenly felt his heart beat faster in his chest. What could he have taken? Why would he take something, while he was like this? 

He watched Jesse’s eyes flutter briefly, as a small smile appeared on his lips, like he was having some sort of daydream. As his eyes blinked once more and then closed, Jesse started to curl onto his side, like he was going to sleep. 

Mike’s words rang in Walt’s ears: try to keep him awake. 

Walt quickly sat on the edge of the bed next to Jesse. Rougher than he would normally be, he reached out and grabbed the front of Jesse’s shirt, yanking forward to pull the kid into a sitting position. 

Jesse made a grunt of protest, his eyes fluttering open again. Icy blue eyes languidly met Walt’s. He reached out, eyes suddenly focused on Walt’s glasses, and stretched his fingers to touch the rim. It was like he saw something there that didn’t exist. 

“Stop, Jesse,” Walt said gently. He leaned back just out of his reach. He shifted his hands from Jesse’s shirt to his hips, holding him firmly. As Jesse started to lean back, he held him steady. “You need to sit up.”

“Why?” Jesse asked. He yawned again.

“To stay awake.” Walt sighed. “What did you take, Jesse?”

“Mike thought he found it all.”

“Jesse. What didn’t he find?”

“Why was he going through my stuff?” Jesse said, somewhat incoherently. “Why?”

“What did you take, Jesse?” Walt persisted, growing anxious.

“Nothing,” Jesse said quickly, as though an automatic response. “I’m fine. I… I want to go home.” His words melted together with a slight slur.

“You are home.”

“No. No, I’m not.” Jesse closed his eyes. 

Walt shook him slightly. “Jesse. Keep your eyes open.” 

Mike came swiftly back into the room at that moment with an air of authority. He moved to the bed and reached around Walt, taking Jesse under his arms and lifting him. 

“Hey,” Jesse objected, pushing against Mike as the man raised him up to hold him against his hip. 

“We have to go,” Mike said, ignoring the protest and the pressure of Jesse’s hands against his chest. “Walter, come on.”

“Where are we going?” Walt asked, rising to his feet. Mike was already heading out the door, and Walt moved to keep up. 

“I know a guy,” Mike explained as he moved down the hallway. He kept one arm tightly around Jesse. The kid was quiet, eyes closed again. “Low key. Good guy. Was a medic in the army – does us some favors sometimes.” He sent a backwards glance to Walt as they made their way down the stairs, realizing he was saying more to Walt than usual. “He will help.”

“Help how? We don’t even know what he took and –”

“He’ll help,” Mike repeated. He didn’t spend even a minute downstairs, moving swiftly to the front door, with Walt steps behind him. As Mike walked outside, Walt shut the door behind them, hesitating to leave the door unlocked but realizing in the interest of time that he had no choice. 

Mike went directly to Walt’s car. “Unlock the door,” he directed. 

Walt shakily pulled out his keys, trying to be as quick as Mike. Mike was in full operative mode, like he had a mission. 

As the doors beeped and unlocked, Mike opened the back passenger door. He leaned in to carefully place Jesse down onto the back seat, gently laying him down and adjusting his position before moving to put a seatbelt on him without a word.

He shut the door once Jesse was secured and looked Walt deadpan in the eye. “You want to drive or should I?”

“Shouldn’t we keep him awake?” Walt glanced nervously towards the passenger door. 

“We’ll be there in ten minutes.”

“You drive. I don’t know where we’re going.”

Mike nodded solemnly and took the keys from Walter. 

\-------

Mike drove like a maniac on a mission. Walt gripped the cup holder on his left side and the door handle on his right to brace himself with each turn. While he winced for his car, he was suddenly glad with his decision to let the man drive.

While he stayed an aloof and distant in appearance on the ride, remaining the ever icy professional, Walt couldn’t help but notice the appearance of what could only be described as unease in Mike’s behavior. As he drove, he glanced every minute to the backseat, eyeing Jesse quickly before returning his eyes to the road. 

“Walter. Can you check that he’s breathing,” he said at one point, tone curt. 

Walt’s heart pounded as he stretched to reach back to the seat behind him and moved a hand over Jesse’s chest. He felt the kid’s heart beating, surprisingly slow, and moved a hand towards his face. He could feel the soft breath of his skin.

“He’s breathing,” he confirmed, voice a little shaky, and noticed that Mike’s shoulders seemed to relax a little. 

“Good,” was Mike’s brusque response. 

Within fifteen minutes they were pulling into a nondescript office park. Mike drove across the parking lot and turned down a small alley to the back of the building. There he pulled up to a parking space beside a metal door with the number 101 over it. 

He was already out of the car before Walt even had his seatbelt off. Opening the back passenger door, Mike unclipped the seatbelt securing Jesse and pulled the kid to a sitting position. 

“Kid,” he shook him gently at first. Then again with more emphasis. Jesse’s eyes remained closed at first and then fluttered open. When he took in Mike in front of him, and looked around to see where he was, he became unsettled. 

“What’s going on?” Jesse asked, voice hitching at the end of the question. As Mike took him under the arms, he started to panic. “Mike,” he objected, pushing at him. Desperate, he tried to use his feet, the strength of his legs, to attempt to push against the man. “Don’t, Mike. Don’t.” 

“I’m trying to help you, Kid,” Mike answered shortly. Despite Jesse’s protest and pushing, he easily got a handle on him and lifted him out of the car. The kid was exhausted, and it showed. “Stop it, and let’s go.” 

Jesse grunted in objection as the car door slammed shut behind them. He continued to squirm, impact muted by his fatigue. His body wasn’t cooperating with him despite his internal fight. Jesse’s eyes locked on Walt for a moment as he noticed the man, and he stopped squirming.

“Mr. White,” he said solemnly. “Don’t let him do it.”

“Do what?” Mike asked him impatiently. “What do you think I’m trying to do?” He looked down at Jesse and noticed the kid’s eyes slowly closing again, despite the his resistance. He approached the door and reached out to a keypad there. Pressing one button, he waited. 

A moment passed, and then the sound of a buzzer. 

Mike glanced around and then gestured at Walt to follow as he turned the knob of the door and pushed it open. 

They quietly entered what Walt could only describe as a medical lab. It was a sterile looking room with white walls and filing cabinets, bright with fluorescent lights. A desk was in the corner, and in the center of the room three stainless steel exam tables. 

What was this place? 

Walt suddenly noticed the other man in the room. An older man, probably Mike’s age, with a receding hairline accompanied by a beard to make up for it. He wore a white medical coat over a t-shirt and jeans. A stethoscope hung around his neck. He walked towards them as Mike approached one of the metal tables and set a lethargic Jesse down on it. 

Jesse’s eyes opened upon being placed on the cold, dark metal table. He blinked. 

“Appreciate the last minute assistance, Jim,” Mike said in a low voice. He kept one hand on Jesse’s arm as the kid looked around the room in exhaustion and awe. Jesse was frozen at the moment, but he remained guarded by him anyway. 

“Never a problem,” the man, Jim, answered. He gave a silent nod towards Walter, and Walter just stared back. 

“So what do you have for me this time…” Jim said slowly as he got closer to the table. “This one’s a bit younger than your typical problem, Mike. Who’s this?”

“This is a client,” Mike answered briefly. “Wasn’t sure how to handle this case and thought you could shed some insight, Jim.”

Jesse tried to wriggle his arm free from Mike, suddenly panicked by this stranger’s interest in him. “Where am I?” he asked. As Mike’s hand tightened on him, he started to squirm. “Mike…” he began apprehensively. “What are you doing? Why did you bring me here?”

“You took something,” Mike answered. 

“No.” Jesse shook his head.

“We need to know what. You told us you took something.”

“I didn’t.” Jesse pulled at his arm again, starting to panic.

“Jesse,” Walter started, getting closer to the table himself. “Calm down. We’re trying to help you.” 

“Like I told you on the phone, Jim,” Mike said, turning his attention to his acquaintance. “We don’t know what it is that he took, but he definitely took something.” 

“What would he have access to?” Jim asked. “He’s how old, exactly?”

Mike sent Walt a quick look before hesitantly saying, “He’s about six or so. And I don’t know. He – uh, I mean, his parents. His parents are drug users. So anything could have been lying around.” 

Jim sighed and fished into his pocket for a moment before pulling out a small penlight. He slowly moved towards Jesse and reached for his chin. Jesse kept a reserved, frustrated look on his face but didn’t fight it. He let out a deep sigh instead. The stranger shined the light in both of Jesse’s eyes. 

“Open your mouth,” Jim told him.

Jesse stared at him. 

Mike squeezed his arm. “Do it, Kid.”

Jesse hesitated and then slowly opened his mouth. Jim took a look with the light. 

“Pupils dilated,” Jim mused softly, as though the comments were for himself but spoken out loud. “Throat and air passage seem normal.” He looked at Mike. “Symptoms?”

“Slurred speech. Drowsiness. You can’t tell now because he’s scared, but he’s been knocked out the whole way here.” 

“What’d you take, son?” Jim asked Jesse directly. He gave him a moment. “Can you tell me what you took?”

“No.” Jesse glowered petulantly.

Jim turned his eyes back to Mike. “Not very cooperative, is he?”

“No,” Mike confirmed. “This one is … problematic. He can require a bit of coercion, if you know what I mean.”

“I see.” Jim nodded. He cleared his throat. “Well, here we only have a couple options. Either I know what was taken, and we address that if needed. Or….” He walked towards the desk in the room and pulled open one drawer. He removed a metal box. “Or we do some investigation.”

Jesse fought his incessant fatigue easily as fear crept through his veins. His eyes remained suspiciously on the man as he returned to the table with the metal box. 

“To do some investigation isn’t easy,” Jim continued. He placed the box on the table next to Jesse. “Well, let me rephrase that. It’s easy for me. I don’t think it’s going to be very easy for you.” With that he turned the clasp on the front of the box and flipped it open.

Inside the box, secured against a black velvet interior of the case, were a variety of needles, varying in sizes. Jim selected one of the larger needles, and removed it from the box. 

He held the needle up in front of him, as though admiring it, and simply said. “This one will probably do. At least for now.”

Jesse stiffened as he eyed the needle, larger than any he had ever seen before. His hands gripped the edge of the table, knuckles whitening. He looked to his old teacher, feeling himself tremble. “Mr. White,” he implored. 

“Mr. White isn’t the doctor here,” Jim answered. “He can’t help you.”

Walter stood frozen in his stance. He was fairly certain that Jim was acting in a Mike-esque technique to get Jesse to talk and had no intention of actually using anything on Jesse, but a piece of him remained on edge. He said nothing. 

Jesse made a small noise. “Mike,” he whispered to the man next to him. “Please.” He fidgeted under Mike’s hold. 

“Listen to him,” Mike advised. 

“Or we can make this easier,” Jim continued. “And you can remember what it is you took.”

Jesse took a deep breath, slowly thinking to himself and then nodded. “Pin,” he said softly. 

“Hm?” Jim frowned. 

“KPin,” Jesse said louder. 

“I see,” Jim answered. “How much?”

Jesse shrugged. “A few?” He sighed, pursing his lips. 

Jim put the needle back in its case and closed the metal box. “Let me see him, Mike,” he said, as he moved closer to Jesse. Mike stepped away from the table. 

Jim worked quietly then. He took the stethoscope and placed the earpieces in his ears. He then placed the chest piece to Jesse’s heart. 

Mike walked over to Walt and gave him the once over. “Enough excitement for the day, Walter?” he asked in a volume only they could hear. “Or do you and your partner have any other tricks up your sleeve that I should know about?”

Walt glanced at him briefly before returning his eyes to Jesse. Jim seemed gentle, taking his vitals, talking to him softly. Jesse looked like he was about to fall asleep again.

“What’s KPin?” Walt asked, frowning. “You don’t seem so concerned.”

“Not anymore,” Mike acknowledged, eyes returning to the table as well. “KPin is the street name for Klonopin. You know, Clonazepam.”

“That’s seizure medication,” Walt objected. 

“Also anxiety medication,” Mike responded. “I don’t think he took enough for us to be concerned about. He’d be throwing up, not waking up… Jim will make sure he’s okay but I have a feeling we can let him sleep this one off. Maybe we get one night off from the brat.” 

Walt felt himself slightly at ease, despite the strange environment and the stranger situation. At least Jesse would be okay. “You were worried.”

Mike glanced at Walt with an air of vexation. “Part of my job, Walter, as you’re well aware, is to keep this Kid breathing. As much as it’s counterintuitive to my desire to wring his neck half the time, I don’t have much say in the matter.” Mike remained matter of fact. “Even if he doesn’t have much in the way of natural self preservation.” 

“Thanks,” Walt found himself saying. “For bringing him here.” 

“No need for thanks, Walter,” Mike answered. “He would have been fine.” He left Walt’s side to walk back towards the table, conversation over. 

It was one of the few times where Walt could recall having a civil conversation with the man. One of the few times he had thanked him. 

“So where do we stand?” Mike asked as he approached the table and the doctor. Jesse was flat on his back now, eyes closed, chest rising and falling gently with his breathing. “He’s okay?”

“He’ll be fine,” Jim said slowly, methodically. “He just took enough to get himself real drowsy…”

“Smart call with your interrogation approach, by the way,” Mike mentioned, gesturing to the metal box that remained on the table. 

Jim gave a small smile. “I thought that was what you might have meant by coercion…” he answered easily. “This box works wonders with six-year-olds.”

“I like your style,” Mike answered approvingly. “So you don’t need to pump his stomach, or…” 

“No… Fortunately not. I’m going to give him some fluids, and otherwise he’s fine to sleep it off. He actually likely won’t remember any of this.” He glanced at Mike. “But his parents need to be careful—these kind of drugs are serious. There can be side effects, liver damage for example, or even coma…. Not a good drug to have around a six year old.”

“Tell me about it,” Mike muttered. 

“He probably thought it was candy,” Jim said.

Mike kept a straight face but mentally skipped a beat at the comment before clearing his throat. “Yeah. I’m sure that’s what happened.” 

\----------


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I can only apologize to those that were reading this story for how long it took me to update. Writing is one of my favorite pastimes, but unfortunately sometimes life has other things in store for us.

Walt glanced at his wristwatch, frowning at the time. They had been at Jim’s… facility for nearly an hour. The time had gone by quickly but was also somewhat uncomfortable, both physically and mentally. Early on he found a seat, realizing this was not going to be a quick visit. It was an old, stiff folding chair within view of where Jesse lay on the stainless steel examination table, but that didn’t make waiting any easier. 

His mind was churning nonstop. His inner rationale’s reminder that the events of the last two days were impossible replayed incessantly in his head as he struggled to fathom how they were in this situation. 

Since Jim’s quick, rather cursory exam, Jesse had been asleep. He lay motionless, curled on his side in a somewhat fetal position on the sterile metal table. He didn’t even stir when Jim set up what appeared to be a simple IV, probably just fluids, and remained in the same position when his vitals were taken fifteen minutes later. 

It crossed Walt’s mind that he should probably question the IV, and make sure that it was in fact just fluids. But he watched from a distance as Mike seemed to insert himself into that protective role, examining the label on the bag and watching carefully as Jim administered it. It reminded Walt, as he often realized, that part of Mike’s job required making sure the kid was still breathing. 

Mike and Jim remained nearby after Jesse’s IV was set-up, less than twenty feet away, in what seemed like a deep, serious conversation. 

Walt considered at one point getting up and approaching them, asking them what the hell was the next step here, but in reality he found himself somewhat frozen to the folding chair. 

He found himself in a position where he could barely assess the state of their affairs, because it was so impossible. He could barely consider how to make a suggestion of next steps. And that made him uncomfortable. 

When he woke up that morning, all he wanted was for things to be back to normal. That hadn’t happened. 

With Jesse, as worked up and as desperate as the kid could get, there was usually at least one common sense next step. Whether it related to calming him down or figuring out an action plan, there was something. Even when the plan was draconian and addressed something in the past Walt would have considered impossible, it was still a plan. 

This time… This time there was none.

And since there was none, he felt uneasy approaching the other two men and making any demands, even about their itinerary. Because he had nothing to offer.

Fortunately within a few minutes of him starting to really wonder what to do, and to start to really feel the anxiety associated with that, Mike made his way over to him. 

“Walter,” he greeted in his usual stoic tone. “Just checked with Jim. The kid should be in the clear at this point. Most likely he’ll want to sleep through the next day, but hey…” he shrugged, almost smirking, “… no complaints from me there.” He cleared his throat. “Only other side effect he mentioned was potentially some stomach issues. Nothing serious. So the little idiot did a number on himself, but nothing serious to worry about. 

“Good to hear.” Walt nodded. “That’s good news then, relatively speaking at least.” 

“Yeah,” Mike agreed, letting out a slow breath. “He’ll be fine, at least until I get my hands on him.”

Walt resisted rolling his eyes. He paused, and then hating himself for asking, found himself saying, “And what now?”

“Now…” Mike echoed slowly, with a hint of the same uncertainty as Walt, though he would likely never admit it. He turned slowly and glanced at Mike on the exam table, a deeper frown than usual etching its way into his features. “Now we can take him home I suppose.”

“Home,” Walter echoed. “Sure. Home.” He sighed and then cut to the chase. “And what home would that be?”

Mike turned his gaze back to him, raising an eyebrow. “Walter, I know you have been experiencing trouble in paradise with your partner and all…. And have proven to be an ill-equipped baby-sitter… But—”

Walt couldn’t help but interject, “I’ll have you know that—”

“Know what?” Mike cut in challengingly. “I know he’s no angel, Walt, but a little more control on your part wouldn’t be so much to ask for…” Sensing Walt about to speak again, he continued. “By the way…. Jim was curious how a six year-old got those cuts all over his palms as well, Walt.” He raised his eyebrows. “I couldn’t answer that one.” 

“Broken glass,” Walt responded stiffly. “Believe it or not, children do have accidents.”

“Well, accident prone or not, between the injuries, the disappearing act, and now this…” He gestured at the exam table, where Jesse still lay motionless. “Bravo, Walter.”

“Oh yeah, and things would have been just stellar under your watch, I suppose,” Walter answered bitterly. “He would be in pristine condition, watching cartoons and eating ice cream.”

“I didn’t say that.” Mike shook his head. “Not at all. And I’m sure there would have been some hiccups, given we have a little more to get done than watching cartoons and eating ice cream… My job’s not one for the kid right now, like I said. But I sure as hell wouldn’t have let him outta my sight.”

“We are where we are,” Walt responded, clenching his fists slightly at his sides. He wanted to spend no time trying to defend himself to Mike’s criticism. The challenge in doing so, and the blood pressure surge involved, was not worth it. He reminded himself of that with an internal sigh. He knew half of Mike’s words were likely to simply be confrontational. He wasn’t going to take the bait with the man today.

“That being said…” Mike took a deep breath. “I can take him, or you can take him. The minute he’s awake enough, I’ll tell you this much… He’s going to show me every god damn piece of illegal shit in his house… And if I find so much as residue after that… so help me…”

“He’s six right now,” Walt reminded. “A child.”

“Child my ass. Don’t care. Didn’t seem to matter when he was popping pills today..” Mike pressed his lips together and then shook his head again. “Let me check with Jim on finishing up with the IV and we can get him out of here. I don’t want to be here too long.” 

Walt stood up from his chair and slowly trailed after Mike, keeping a polite distance. He was close enough to hear the brief exchange when Mike reached Jim. With a couple words, Jim moved back over to the exam table and did a brief check again of Jesse’s vitals before starting to remove the IV. 

Walt found himself wince slightly as the needle was slowly extracted from Jesse’s arm. He himself had gotten well accustomed to needles jabbing him personally day in and out, but Jesse’s arm looked so tiny and feeble. Jim’s movement was smooth and efficient, but it did cause the previously still Jesse to now wake, opening his eyes drowsily and whimpering, uncurling from his position on his side to lie on his back. 

Jim held a small cotton ball against the skin where the IV had been. After a few seconds he looked under the cotton ball, seemed satisfied and threw it away. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a bandaid.

“Your arm will be a little sore,” he explained to Jesse, reaching out to help the kid sit up as he started to become more alert. “Easy now…” He then unwrapped the bandaid and quickly placed it over the small wound. “It may bruise. Nothing to be worried about.” He watched Jesse sway a little bit and didn’t seem fazed. “Dizziness is normal. Nausea is normal. You should really just sleep. That’s what happens after what you took.”

“Alright… Should we bring him back at all?” Mike asked. “In a day or so?”

Jim shrugged. “Not necessary. Unless you start to notice something unusual, he should be fine. Which is lucky.” He looked pointedly at Jesse. “You’ve got to be more careful with what you eat, kiddo. You were lucky not to need your stomach pumped. Or worse.” 

Jesse glowered slightly, as though the recollection of the day was coming back to him. This man spoke to him like a small child, and behind the eyes of the small child, the older being within Jesse began to silently bristle. He looked over at Mike, then Walt, and scowled. It last for only a moment before he yawned widely. He eyed the table he sat on and ran a finger over the stainless steel surface. His gaze remained low as though he suddenly felt self-conscious or disconcerted that the three men were staring at him. 

“You’re free to go,” Jim continued. “Like I said before, he’ll be a bit confused, more tired than anything else. He’s got fluids in him now. Make sure he eats later… Other than that… Just tell his parents or guardian to keep a better eye on him…”

Mike sent a telling look to Walt at that moment and nodded curtly. “Message will be delivered. Thanks as always, Jimbo.” With that, he then walked over to the table and without a word of warning grabbed Jesse under his arms and lifted him up. The movement wasn’t gentle and Jesse let that be known with a yelp of surprise. With his downcast eyes, he hadn’t noticed Mike’s movement towards him and the sudden undertaking to leave was startling. He struggled a little, but Mike’s arm around him, holding him on his hip, was firm and supportive.

Mike began briskly walking towards the exit with Walt quickly matching his step to keep up.

Jesse pushed against Mike’s chest in weak protest and muttered, “I can walk,” as insistently as possible. He slowly seemed to become more cognizant of the situation. “I can walk,” he said again. 

Mike dismissed him, “You could but not going to try it. Not now, kid.”

“I’m not a kid…” In his effort to gain his personal space and independence, Jesse seemed to forget that this was what Mike always called him. He continued to protest. “I. Can. Walk.” Jesse emphasized each word carefully, pushing against Mike’s chest and squirming harder. 

“Is this the confusion Jim mentioned you would have?” Mike answered dryly, firming up his hold on Jesse’s small frame with a deep breath of forced patience. “Or are you really just trying to piss me off…?”

They were outside at this point, and Walt could almost feel the exasperation radiating off of the older man. He could see Jesse squirming with increased persistence. Part of Mike’s job required an enormous amount of patience, grit, and self-control. However, the parties he typically engaged with were just as gritty, usually had a gun, and were decades past six years old. And he normally didn’t have to carry them. 

“I. Want. To. Walk.” Jesse insisted, a whine in his tone. “Let me go.”

“Jesse, aren’t you tired?” Walt asked, attempting to intervene. “Mike’s just getting us out of here.” He felt like Mike would lose it any minute, yet they were so close to the car. There was definitely a real six-year-old sense of emotion within Jesse while in this state, probably partially out of his control, but tension was high over the last two days. 

“No! I want to walk!” Jesse remained adamant with a child’s resolve. He’d squirmed so much that he was now nearly sideways in Mike’s hold. That hold remained ironclad regardless of Jesse’s position. 

They then reached the car, and Mike, who still had the keys from driving earlier, shifted his hold on the writhing child to briefly be one-armed, as he quickly fished the keys from his pocket. He unlocked the car before handing the keys to Walter, in an indication of who would be driving home. 

“All this drama over walking,” Mike muttered under his breath irritably, as little hands continued to push against him and a knee caught him in his stomach. He grunted, wincing slightly, as he opened the backdoor of the car. “Unbelievable.”

“You could have just let him walk,” Walt pointed out, walking around to the driver’s door and pulling it open. 

“See that’s where you and I differ, Walter,” Mike answered, eyeing the other man briefly with frustration as he shifted his hold on a red-faced, obstinate Jesse. “I don’t ‘let’ him do anything. He doesn’t get to ‘just do’ anything right now.” With that he placed, or more accurately shoved, a chagrined Jesse into the back of the car roughly, essentially forcing him into the seat. “I’m not letting him go when he could do god knows what or run god knows where while he’s still got who knows what in his system.” He pointed a finger at Jesse. “Got it? Put on your seatbelt.” 

Jesse was breathing deeply in and out, face flushed. The last few minutes of struggle showed their physical toll on his small body. His blue eyes flashed with anger, shining slightly, and he stared at Mike with a look of resentment. His small fists were clenched at his sides. 

Walt, now sitting in the driver’s seat, took a look at his small partner in the rear view mirror and took a deep, tired breath. Jesse’s behavior reminded him of Walt Jr’s when he was a child and had a nap interrupted. It also slightly reminded Walt of Jesse himself during certain situations in their relationship when things hadn’t gone his way. 

“No,” he heard Jesse say. 

Here we go… Walt thought. 

“Am I going to have to repeat myself?” Mike laid an arm against the top frame of the car’s doorway and leaned in closer to Jesse. His voice took a tone that adult Jesse knew well and usually obeyed immediately. “I told you to put on your seatbelt.”

“I told you I could walk!” Jesse shot back. “I told you to let me go!”

Mike raised his eyebrows and leaned back from the car for a moment, working his jaw in frustration. “First walking. Now a goddamn seatbelt. For fuck’s sake…” He leaned back towards the car and reached towards Jesse. 

“No!” Jesse cried, scrambling to move to the other side of the car and create distance between himself and the older man, convinced the movement was finally Mike’s angered response to his defiance. As he reached desperately to that door’s handle, Mike leaned in further and caught him by the ankle, yanking him back until he could grab him by the arm, easily dragging him back into his original seat. 

At this point, Walt had already turned the car on and flipped the air conditioning to full blast, the rush of cool air the only soothing element of the moment. He tried to ignore the scene behind him, knowing it could only play out a minute or so more. 

Jesse was breathing hard again, in and out with deep breaths, as Mike’s hand remained on his arm, locked tight. 

“I don’t know how much of this is you being… this age… and needing a nap,” Mike said gruffly, “which I’m trying to understand and I know you are too.” He shook his head, “Versus how much of this is this you being… you.” 

Jesse tried to pull his arm away unsuccessfully. 

“I will tell you this, Kid,” Mike continued, voice dropping lower and getting an even firmer edge. “If you ever, and I mean ever, fight me again over something as stupid as being able to walk, what you won’t be able to do for a week is sit. Understand?”

“No.” Jesse glared at him. He squirmed again, this time by trying to slip down lower into the seat, like he could somehow slip away. 

“No?” Mike echoed dangerously, pulling Jesse upright once again. “I’d be careful, Kid. I’m half inclined to show you what I mean based on the stunt you pulled this afternoon. What are you trying to prove?” 

Walt heard Jesse whimper and cleared his throat, eying the clock. “Mike. Let’s go. He’s tired. Just like Jim said he would be.” He then met Jesse’s eye in the rear view mirror. “Jesse. Stop. Just listen to Mike, stop moving, and let’s go.” 

“Sure. He’s tired…” Mike grabbed the seatbelt and slipped it over Jesse’s small frame, clicking it into place and then trying to arrange the straps over a six year old as effectively as possible. 

“I want to go home,” Jesse whined, expression slipping into a sulk. He caught Mike’s eye and then fidgeted under the seatbelt. “Mike… I can’t… I want to change back…” He then pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes. 

“Enough already…” Mike answered. He gave one last check to the seatbelt on the kid, and then stepped back and shut the door. 

Walt watched Mike walk around the front of the car, suddenly appreciative that the man had a bit more actual patience than he’d suspected. While letting the scene play out, he’d assumed it would end in more anger and tears. He was pleasantly surprised. And then a little guilty that he himself had gotten more angry than this with Jesse over the last two days. Albeit they had spent more time together…

When Mike pulled open the passenger door and got into the car, Walt send him a glance and asked, “So where to? We never actually agreed where to –”

“Kid’s place,” Mike answered. He glanced at the backseat where Jesse was still where he left him, hands now rubbing his face tiredly. “He can take a nap, and I can finish housecleaning.”

Walt eyed him for a moment, hesitant, and then sighed, shook his head, and put the car into drive. 

“And if this lasts more than another day…” Mike continued, rubbing a hand over his own face quickly.. “So help us…”

Walt silently nodded his agreement.


	16. Chapter 18

The car ride to Jesse’s house was for the most part silent. After his stand-off with Mike, Jesse said nothing but sniffled for a few minutes. Mike ignored it completely, looking at the window as Walt drove and not once looking back. Walt glanced occasionally in the rear view mirror at Jesse to check on him, and found him for those few minutes fidgeting with this seatbelt straps, cheeks flushed, but without real tears. 

After a few minutes, the sniffles subsided and became occasional before stopping completely. The next time Walt looked in the mirror at him, he was fast asleep, head lolled to the side, arms and legs slack. His mouth was slightly open, chest rising and falling steadily in a deep sleep.

When he pulled up to the curb in front of Jesse’s house, he parked behind Mike’s car. He then looked behind him at Jesse’s peaceful, sleeping form. The features of Jesse’s face were his, but so innocent and soft. He felt some of his irritation towards Jesse start to dwindle. 

“If only there was a way to ensure he slept for the rest of the time he’s a pint size version of himself,” Mike muttered wryly as he stepped out of the car. “I mean, there is a way but…” 

Walt got out of the car himself, silently agreeing and wishing he did not have to disturb the sleeping child. He noticed Mike walk towards his own car and raised his eyebrows in question.

“You leaving?” Walt asked. 

“Not yet,” Mike answered as he unlocked and opened the back door to his car. “Just getting something.”

Walt frowned and eyed him suspiciously. He moved slowly to open his own back door, and stood for a minute with it open, looking in at Jesse with a sigh. He was so peaceful like this; such a contrast to most of the experience of the last couple days. 

He couldn’t leave him in the car forever though, so Walt moved forward with the inevitable and leaned into the car to unclip the oversized seatbelt. He slid it off of the child, who did not stir.

“Jesse,” Walt said softly. He should his shoulder gently.

With the prodding, Jesse’s face wrinkled slightly, though his eyes remained closed. Walt continued to nudge him. 

At the persistence, the kid opened his eyes, the peaceful look from moment’s before quickly replaced with a grumpy sulk. He squirmed a bit, stretching out his limbs, and eyed Walt irritably. 

“What are you giving me that look for?” Walt asked. 

“Because, Mr. White,” Jesse answered. “I’m still small.”

“What did you expect?”

“Every time I go to sleep, I think maybe when I wake up I will be me again,” Jesse answered sadly, his brow furrowed. He held his hands in front of his face and made a disgusted expression. “When am I going to fucking change back?”

“You’re still you,” Walt reminded, wincing at the foul language coming out of a child’s mouth and refraining from correcting him. “You’re just a smaller version of yourself. How do you feel?” 

“Yo, I’m fucking tired,” Jesse answered, continuing to scowl. “What do you think?”

“Not surprised, considering what you did to yourself today.” He was well accustomed to children being grumpy, but was not familiar with this type of angst coming from a six year old. “Can you walk?”

“Of course I can walk.” Jesse glanced from his hands to outside and the sudden realization of where they were came to him. “Wait. We’re at my house.”

“Yes, Sherlock. Show me you can get out of the car and walk. Jim said you’d be a bit dizzy.”

Jesse looked at him suspiciously for a minute, frowning, and then craned his neck to look outside the car again. “Mr. White… Where is Mike?” he asked, almost in a whisper.

“Twenty feet from you,” Walt answered. He rolled his eyes as Jesse seemed to grow uncertain. “What? You’re scared of him now? Maybe you shouldn’t have pressed every single one of his buttons, then.” 

“I couldn’t help it. Does he still seem mad?” At Walt’s skeptical look, Jesse continued defensively, “Yo, he wouldn’t let me walk, alright?”

“You haven’t proven to me that you can.” 

Jesse’s eyes narrowed. With that, as Walt knew he would, he began the descent to climb down out of the car. Walt kept a watchful eye but took a step back to let Jesse be independent. The last thing he wanted was a repeat of the tantrum from earlier when Mike refused to let him walk on his own. 

He closed to door behind Jesse once the kid was on the ground. He seemed okay, relatively speaking. He looked exhausted, yawning frequently, but seemed to be steady on his feet. However, he hadn’t really taken any steps yet. 

It crossed Walt’s mind at that point that neither he nor Mike had really even reacted to what Jesse had done. They panicked at first, sure. Got him to a place to ensure he was okay, which thankfully he was. But since then, it was like business as usual. 

As he start to process what the kid had actually done, and the danger he could have put himself in, he started to feel angry. The slight calm from the sight of a peaceful sleeping Jesse was quickly being replaced. 

“Jesse…” he started, well intended to start a lecture. 

However, Jesse’s attention was caught by something else.

Mike walked towards them with slow but ominous steps. Dangling from his hand was the infamous pair of handcuffs that had loomed as a threat since this ordeal had started. 

“NO,” Jesse said firmly as he caught the sight heading towards him. 

“No, what, Kid?” Mike responded. “No one asked your opinion.” 

Jesse first moved behind Walt’s legs, as though that was a natural place to hide. Walt felt his hand on his pants leg. 

Mike just chuckled. “You think I can’t get through him, Kid?”

“Let’s go inside,” Walt answered as Jesse tugged on his leg. “The last thing we need is a scene in front of his house.”

“There is no need for a scene from anyone,” Mike answered, pausing a few feet from them. 

Jesse broke away from Walt and began to walk determinedly towards his front door. His little steps were quick, and he tiredly stumbled a few times as he made his way across the grass lawn. The two men watched him distrustfully. 

“Mike,” Walt hissed in the meantime. “You’re not actually going to –”

“Going to what, Walter…?” Mike answered back curtly. “Actually control him for once? You’re damn right I am. I’m not spending another moment of wasted time on his antics. You give an inch, he fucks up a mile. We’re lucky he hasn’t killed himself in this state yet. I am done.”

Walt shook his head in slight disbelief, skeptical of how any of this would play out. 

“Yo!” Jesse yelled towards them from his front step in his child size voice. “Who has a key!” He looked incredibly frustrated. 

Walt fished into his pocket and found the key to the house. He started towards Jesse and sensed Mike following. 

When they reached the door, Jesse’s scowl was prominent. His blue eyes were narrowed at them. 

“Yo. Unlock the door,” Jesse demanded. He fidgeted, shifting back and forth.

“Patience…” Walt muttered as he moved to unlock the door.

“I gotta pee,” Jesse explained irritably. “Like really, really—”

“So go…” Walt pushed the door open, and Jesse slipped inside, scrambling upstairs, presumably towards the bathroom. 

Mike swiftly followed him. 

Walt frowned. “Mike? What are you—” He cut himself off as both of them left his sight. With a sigh, he shut the door behind himself and followed the unpredictable duo up the stairs. 

Walt reached the upstairs landing just in time to catch Mike place his foot in the doorway to the bathroom as Jesse tried to close the door.

“Hey!” Jesse yelled, trying to shut the door again. He huffed when the door again ran into Mike’s boot. 

Mike stood there unwearyingly and placed the handcuffs into his back pocket. He crossed his arms and stood resolved. “Kid, I thought you had to pee.”

“Mike…” Walt started, rolling his eyes. 

“Get outta the door!” Jesse pushed against the door desperately, but Mike’s stance was solid. 

“Kid, I ain’t moving…” Mike answered simply. “So if you’ve gotta pee, then go ahead and do it…” At the incredulous stare he was getting back from the child in front of him, he continued, “You think I’m going to risk you locking yourself in here to try to prove some point?” 

“I won’t!” Jesse persisted. 

“Sure. I believe that. You’ve proven to be so trustworthy these days…” Mike answered skeptically. He eyed the kid with steadfast persistence. Jesse was turning red with anger, his jaw clenched, small hands clasped into tight fists. “I know that look…” Mike shook his head. “Don’t even think about whatever you are considering doing…”

“I’m not, Mike. Go. Away.” Jesse persisted. 

“You better hurry up before you piss yourself, Kid,” Mike answered. “I’m going no where.”

“I want privacy,” Jesse whined.

“That’s a privilege you don’t get, Kid. And if this is about your decency, we both know I’ve already seen every part of you already so get on with it.” Mike shook his head. “I’m not budging.” 

After another minute of a staring contest, Jesse’s call to nature won the battle and he was forced to give in. With a quick whimper, he moved away from the battle of the bathroom door and turned his attention to taking care of the immediate need at hand. 

“See, Walter,” Mike began, looking away from the bathroom and instead at the other man. “A certain incident wouldn’t have happened today… A certain alleged disappearance… If you knew how to stand your ground.”

“Of course,” Walt answered sarcastically. He again reminded himself not to be baited. 

“I’m serious,” Mike responded, sensing the other’s sarcasm. “Would have saved us all a lot of time. Maybe we would have avoided the last few hours as well.” 

“Let me remind you that you were involved in the last few hours, Mike,” Walt said slowly. “That did not happen on just my watch.

Mike narrowed his eyes at him for a moment but then after shaking his head slightly, as though in silent judgment, he broke eye contact at the sound of flushing toilet. Glancing back into the bathroom, Mike asked Jesse, “You done?” He pushed the door open wider. 

Jesse was done, and stood now glaring at the two men. “Yo, can I be left to some goddamn peace and quiet in my own home now?” he asked. “For once?”

“Do you even know what peace and quiet is?” Mike challenged. “I doubt you do. It’s a privilege. And no, you didn’t earn that privilege either.” 

Jesse set his jaw, already looking prepared to be difficult. 

“Listen,” Mike continued. “The lab reopens tomorrow. Don’t know if either of you geniuses remembers me telling you that. Probably not considering someone’s need to create chaos at every waking moment.” He gave Jesse a look. “Between now and then, we gotta think of what we want to do. But one thing I know we need to do, is prevent anything like what happened today from repeating again.” 

“I—” Jesse started. 

“Shush,” Mike responded. “We need to do some housecleaning. And you’re gonna help me, but I’m also gonna be pretty damn sure you’re not going anywhere. Now where do you want to be?” He reclaimed his handcuffs from his back pocket and dangled them in front of Jesse. 

“NO.” Jesse shook his head. 

“Again, Kid – where was I asking your opinion?” 

“Mr. White!” Jesse objected, peering beyond Mike to the other man, tone insistent. 

“Don’t pull him into this, Kid,” Mike answered, “and don’t make this more difficult than it has to be.” 

“I won’t go anywhere,” Jesse insisted. 

“I know you won’t,” Mike responded. “You won’t be able to.” 

“Mike, enough… Can we talk about the plan for tomorrow?” Walter suggested. “Why don’t we go downstairs, sit down, and talk about what the plan is. If I’m going to cook by myself, we—” 

“We’ll get to that,” Mike assured. “First things first.” He took a step into the bathroom, having Jesse cornered. 

Jesse backed up at first instinctively, but quickly hit the wall behind him. He then did the only thing he could think of as Mike came even closer to him, within touching distance. He kicked him in the shins. 

“Dammit,” Mike hissed, losing focus for seconds at the impact, but regaining it quick enough to grab Jesse by the arm as the kid tried to dart around him. He sucked in his breath as the sharp pain from the kick receded, and after taking a deep breath to calm himself as much as he could in the moment, he yanked Jesse’s arm to pull him closer to him as the kid continued to pull away. 

“You’re hurting me!” Jesse whined, as his arm was stretched over his head. 

“Am I?” Mike responded wryly. “I’m resisting the urge to really hurt you, Kid, I’ll tell you that much…” He looked around the bathroom and sighed, eyeing a pipe that ran from floor to ceiling. With a sigh, he took a step over to it, pulling the kid with him. In a fluid motion, he opened the handcuffs and clapped one side of it around the pipe. He tugged gently to confirm it was locked. 

“Given Walter was actually a bit correct regarding the size of these…” Mike spoke out loud, “this unfortunately is probably not going to be that comfortable for you.” 

“Don’t do this, Mike…” Jesse whimpered. “I didn’t mean to kick you…” 

Mike ignored him, and within seconds had both of Jesse’s wrists restrained together in the other handcuff. He tightened it, sensitive to making it tight enough but not painful. He discounted Jesse’s persistent whining over it hurting him. 

“Mike, what does this accomplish?” Walt asked in exasperation, watching Jesse sink to the ground, noticeably growing more frustrated, pulling at the cuffs. “He needs to sleep, not—”

“He can sleep here,” Mike answered. “With the guarantee of not going anywhere.” He watched Jesse struggle for a moment and then sank down onto his haunches to Jesse’s level. “Listen, Kid. Stop pulling at ‘em or you’re just going to rub your wrists raw, hear me? You know why I’m doing this.” 

“No. This isn’t fair,” Jesse sniffled. “If I was big—”

“If you were big and did what you had done today, you’d be in the trunk of my car wishing to be in this situation after I had beaten the shit outta you,” Mike snapped. 

Jesse’s sniffling began to turn into true crying. He bowed his head as true tears started, shoulders shaking pitifully. His weeping was relatively quiet. 

“Stop the waterworks… I haven’t given you anything to cry about,” Mike said, a little sharply. He reached out and took Jesse’s chin firmly in his grasp, tilting his head up. “Look at me… Kid… Look at me now…” He paused as Jesse met his eyes. “Good boy.” He cleared his throat. “Now answer my questions so we make this as quick as possible. You made the comment today, that I thought I found everything…”

Jesse frowned. 

“Remember?” Mike asked. 

Reluctantly, Jesse nodded. 

“So whattaya think I’m about to ask you, Kid?” Mike smirked at him. “Where’s the rest of it?”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jesse mumbled, sniffling. His nose was starting to run. 

“You do. And you can tell me, or I can look for myself,” Mike continued. “Which one do you think means you get to take these cuffs off faster? Don’t play dumb or you might end up sleeping in here overnight.”

Jesse tugged at the handcuffs again. “I don’t know what you found already,” he objected. “I… I don’t know—”

“Then guess,” Mike answered. “And if any of it is from our lab… Then tell me now.” 

“It’s not,” Jesse answered. “I swear.” He squirmed again. “Did you throw out the weed?”

“Maybe I did,” Mike shrugged. “Now quit stalling and answer me. Where might I not have looked?” 

Through tears, Jesse gained a cunning look, and tilting his head to the side said softly, “I’ll show you.”

Mike shook his head. “Nice try. Tell me.” 

Walt watched the scene quietly, tempted to walk away and let Mike do his thing. He knew Mike was merely trying to make sure Jesse had nothing else that could get him into trouble. And doing that while in this position of additional power was the easiest time to do it. He found the handcuffs to be overkill, but it did keep Jesse in one place, and he looked miserable enough that maybe it was effective.

At that moment, a phone started to ring. Walt realized a second later that it was his own phone and quickly scrambled to pull it from his pocket and check the caller ID.

Saul…

Walt flipped open the phone and quickly answered, speaking in a low tone. “Walt here.” 

“Walt, good you answered,” Saul greeted briefly, sounding a little out of breath. “I was hoping to catch you… I’ve got something.”

Walt frowned, replaying the words in his head and then out loud. “Got something,” he repeated. 

“Yes,” Saul confirmed. “The kid’s amazing shrinking act? Well, I think we might have a lead.”

Walt felt himself freeze in surprise. “A lead?” He gripped the phone tighter in his hand. “Talk,” he demanded. 

“Not over the phone,” Saul responded. He said it in a lower tone, as if any third party listening would somehow not catch the intonation.

Walt sighed. He should have expected that response. “Then where?” he replied curtly. 

“Can you come by my office? I’ll be here for another hour.”

“Yes,” Walt answered. He glanced at his watch and then behind him into the bathroom. Mike was still talking to Jesse, no doubt beginning an inquisition on all hiding places for illegal substances in the kid’s home. That could take a while. Jesse looked small, tired, and miserable. “You want to fill me in first, or you need Jesse too?”

“Actually… If it’s possible let me fill you in first,” Saul responded. “I haven’t had a chance to buy knee guards yet… No offense.” 

“None taken.” Walt smirked at Saul’s reference to Jesse’s outburst in his office, which took place very similarly to his outburst a few minutes ago. “I’ll come alone. Fortunately we have someone else to play babysitter so that’s an option.” 

“And who would that be?” Saul’s skepticism was clear over the phone.

“Mike,” Walter confirmed. 

Saul snorted. “To be a fly on that wall,” he answered sarcastically. Then he cleared his throat. “Fine. Look, I’ve got to my next appointment in ten minutes. But make it over here when you can.”

“Will do.” Walt ended the call and put the phone away. As he stepped back into the doorway of the bathroom, he found both Jesse and Mike’s eyes on him.

Remaining on his haunches in front of Jesse, Mike looked suspicious, as usual, with eyebrows raised as if expecting Walt to give some kind of update. Walt didn’t give him the satisfaction of offering any unsolicited comments, and Mike started to rise to full height. 

“Who was on the phone?” he prompted. 

“Saul,” Walt answered. He looked between the two in front of him. Without much choice, Jesse remained on the bathroom floor, legs spread out in front of him with a posture that looked defeated, hands cuffed together in front of him on his lap. He looked even more tired than before, still sniveling, nose running. 

“And?” Mike persisted. “Any updates?”

Walt stepped further into the bathroom and grabbed the hand towel on the rack next to the sink. He ran water briefly to get it wet enough. “He may have some… suggestions for us…”

“Suggestions?” Mike questioned. 

“He may have found some answers to this…. situation…” Walt moved towards Jesse with the towel as he continued to talk. “He says he has a lead.”

“What kind of lead?” Mike persisted. 

“He didn’t want to talk over the phone.” Walt knelt on one knee in front of Jesse, who had been quiet but watching him closely. He raised the towel and quickly but carefully wiped the cloth over his face, rubbing away from the flushed skin the wetness from the recent tears. He wiped away the runny nose as well. He said nothing to Jesse directly after doing so, rising and tossing the towel to the counter. 

“I’ll be back,” he said. 

“What about me, Mr. White?” Jesse asked softly. 

“What about you?” Walt answered, studying him with a sigh. Jesse looked slightly soothed by his gesture of a wet cloth but still uncomfortable. “Saul asked me to come by first to see what information he’s got.” 

“What if he knows something?” Jesse answered. He squirmed slightly on the floor, tugging at the handcuffs. “What if it can fix me?”

“Then we’ll talk about fixing you after I hear what it is and whether it makes any sense.” Walt started to walk out of the bathroom, knowing he didn’t want to waste any more time deliberating. He felt an anxiety over what Saul may or may not have and wanted to confirm it sooner rather than later. 

Mike followed him out into the hallway.

“You really think he’s got a solution, Walter?” Mike asked. 

“I know nothing,” Walt answered, pausing his step and turning to view Mike briefly, “until I get to speak to him. So the sooner I go, the sooner I will find out.” He didn’t miss Mike’s skeptical expression.

“But do you have any idea?” Mike persisted. 

Walt was about to answer when Jesse protested the private conversation. 

“Hey!” Jesse objected from the bathroom, voice edging higher in concern. “Don’t leave me in here!”

“Hold your horses, Kid,” Mike bellowed back. He then studied Walt carefully. “Okay, go… Depending what the solution is, if there even is one, we’ll then decide what to do about the lab tomorrow.” 

Walt nodded. “I’ll call you as soon as I know more.”

“Yo! I can’t hear you!” Jesse shouted from the bathroom. 

“Jesus Christ…” Mike rolled his eyes heavenward. “That kid… God help me.” 

“You’re the one that locked him in there like a prisoner,” Walt reminded. 

“You speak as though there was a wiser alternative, Walter,” Mike answered wryly. “I assure you that any other option would have already resulted in drama.”

“This isn’t drama?” Walt responded, nodding his head towards the bathroom where Jesse was shouting again. 

“Let me out!” he demanded. 

Mike shook his head. “Call me as soon as you have an update,” he told Walt, then walking slowly back to the bathroom. As he disappeared into the doorway, Walt overheard him address Jesse gruffly. “Listen, Kid. Quit your screaming or I’m gonna give you something to scream about…”

Walt took that opportunity to continue his exit. He made his way down the stairs and out the front door, briskly walking to his car. 

While slightly concerned about leaving Mike and Jesse alone, it was after all only a slight concern. While he talked tough, the majority of Mike’s actions had indicated he was more of a pushover to Jesse than he would ever let on. Walt felt pretty confident that he would return to a pretty civil situation, or at least no undeserved circumstances.

His mind was working overtime to think about what Saul might have as an update. The academic in Walt was still objecting to any of this scenario being real. And if it was not real, then a solution was not real. But somehow this had to get resolved, and it had to get resolved quickly. 

Not real… 

Yet the child version of Jesse was as ‘real’ as anything else surrounding him. He was physically there. He slept, he ate, he cried, he yelled. It was all real or an incredibly realistic mirage. 

Walt sighed as he got into his car, turning the key in the ignition and looking briefly at his reflection in the mirror. Was he real?

Of course he was. 

Somehow this was all real. 

Cancer had made him question everything. Treatments made him question everything. 

But this was not a juncture where he wanted to start to overanalyze any of that part of his path. 

Putting the car in drive, he started towards Saul’s office. 

He made it two blocks before his phone started to ring.

His initial thought was cursing Mike and Jesse. Could they really not spend a few minutes with Jesse in this state before his interjection was needed? 

Before he could finish that thought, he reached a stop sign and used that opportunity to pull out his cell phone.

Skyler.

He debated not answering. He shouldn’t answer. He couldn’t. Answering would delay him. He would much rather deal with the aftermath of not answering her call. 

But for some reason he found his fingers moving in almost an old habit to answer the phone.

“Hello, Skyler.”

“Walt…” came her smooth voice over the line. “Where are you? I need you to come home.”

‘Home’ he thought ironically. What a term.

“What do you need, Skyler?” 

“Need?” she echoed, a little cold. “I personally don’t need anything, Walt. Your daughter is the one that needs something. I need to take care of some things and can’t bring Holly with me.”

“What do you need to take care of?” he responded. 

A pause. Then, “Really, Walt?”

He sighed. He looked at the clock. “Now? Or can I come by in an hour?”

“An hour?” she answered. “Walt, where are you?” Then she sighed. “I suppose I could wait, but…”

He took a deep breath. Saul was only in his office for the next hour. But Skyler’s already impatient reaction was adding to his anxiety. 

“Fine,” Skyler started. “I’m sorry I asked, Walt. I thought maybe you wanted to contribute to Holly’s – ”

“I’ll be there,” he interrupted. He looked at the clock. Saul was fifteen minutes. Their conversation couldn’t take more than fifteen minutes. Then another fifteen to Skyler…. “Forty five.”

“No sooner?” she asked. 

“I’m sorry, Skyler,” he admitted. “Forty five.”

“Not a minute later,” she answered. With that the line disconnected. 

Walter looked again at the clock as the light in front of him turned red. “Fuck.”


	17. Chapter 17

\------

When Walt arrived at Saul’s office, he was pleasantly surprised to find the waiting room empty. Adding to his anxiety on his way over was the concern that the packs of derelicts that typically required the services of Saul would create an additional delay. Even when Saul’s best intentions were to see Walt, a waiting room full of people could make it challenging. Thankfully this now appeared to not be the case, and he no longer needed to brainstorm excuses as to why he was able to ‘skip the line’ to see the lawyer.

He had made to the office in record time. He accelerated impatiently at the sight of any light turning yellow and truly redefined the term ‘rolling stop’ at each stop sign. 

By the time he made it into Saul’s actual office, he was sweating. 

“Walt,” Saul greeted, standing up from his desk and smoothing down the front of his shirt and tie. “Good. Glad you’re here.”

“So what did you find out?” Walt asked. 

“Skipping the formalities, I see.” Saul smiled. “Not that I blame you.” He smirked. “And how is the little angel doing?” 

“Little angel my ass.” Walt rolled his eyes at the man’s reference to Jesse’s state. “Clock is ticking, Saul. What did you find out?” Walt insisted. 

“It’s an interesting story.”

“Don’t really have time for interesting stories…” Walt persisted. “Especially given the highly subjective aspect of what is actually interesting…” 

“Got it.” Saul smiled tightly. “Okay. Well, what I did find out, after talking to a few different sources, is that this isn’t the first time something like this has happened…”

“It’s not?” Walt frowned. That was possibly good but also… somewhat unbelievable. “I’ve never heard of a single documented case of something like this, but continue…”

“I didn’t say it was documented,” Saul pointed out. “Just that it has happened before.”

Walt ran a hand over his head briefly, following Saul’s words impatiently. “Okay…?”

“There is a doctor. Specializes in this kind of thing. Apparently the right combination of …. something… can get you in a state like Jesse’s.”

“The right combination of something?” Walt echoed skeptically. “That’s what you have? You made me come over here for this?”

“I’m not done.” Saul frowned at him. He took a few steps to his desk and sat leaning against the front of it. “The ‘something’ apparently involves the right timing, from a calendar perspective, as well as the right person, from a physical and psychological perspective, and also involves certain… substances.”

“Substances…”

“Right… Apparently the cases where this has happened before involve other…” Saul hesitated.

“Other what, Saul?” Walt pushed. 

“Other addicts,” Saul answered. “Apparently in all the cases where this happened, there was a certain combination of traits that led to this and –”

“How do we undo it? And who the hell can tell us what the combination of traits needs to be? Specifically. With… with absolute specifics.” Walt could feel his own heart starting to pump faster. None of this seemed feasible. The situation nor the apparent solution. 

“Let me give you the name of a guy…”

“The name of a guy. Great. That’s great, Saul. That’s just what I need. Another wild goose chase.”

“Give him a call…” Saul continued. He pushed himself off his desk and walked around to the back of it to open a drawer. He thumbed through some items in the desk and then pulled out a card. 

Walt approached him as he held out the card and took it doubtfully. He read it slowly. Dr. Thaddeus Dumont. There was a phone number on the card but no address. In italics the card read, ‘by appointments only.’ 

He slowly looked up from the card to Saul, who had an expectant look on his face. 

“Is this a real doctor?” Walt asked.

Saul rolled his eyes. “Of course. What do you take me for.”

“What kind of doctor?” Walt challenged, raising his eyebrows.

Saul hesitated. He eyed Walt and then shrugged, throwing his hands up someone exasperatedly. “I don’t know, Walt. The M.D. kind.”

“Helpful,” Walt muttered irritably. 

“Call him,” Saul answered. 

“Can I mention you referred me?”

Saul opened his mouth to speak and then closed it again, as though thinking over the question. “I…”

“I take that as a no…” Walt answered.

Saul shrugged. “Prefer if you did not, to be honest.”

“I will do my best.” Walt lifted his wrist to view the time on his watch. “I’ve got to go, Saul. But this better get me somewhere.”

“Hey, if not, maybe the kid’s less trouble as –”

“Not even close.” 

\------

When Walt got to his house, Skyler was full of little words but made up for it with irritability and cold stares. She handed Holly to him while reminding him that he was ten minutes late, and then shortly thereafter was out the door with the commitment to be back in an hour. 

Walt Jr. was apparently at a friend’s house, and so Walt found himself in a chair in front of his television, reminded of how things used to be. He rocked Holly methodically, and while he loved the time with his daughter, he couldn’t help but watch the clock. The quiet time with her seemed to make time move slowly, and while at one point that would have been something he cherished, at the moment it did nothing more but churn the anxiety already building with him. 

After thirty minutes with her his cell phone rang, and he answered quickly with a, “Yes,” after raising it to his ear.

“Walter…” came the low, displeased voice.

“Mike.”

“It’s been over an hour.”

“I know.”

“Are you with Saul?”

“Yes. I— I mean, no.” Walt closed his eyes briefly. “I saw Saul. I saw him just before at his office. He told me—”

“Do the words that you’ll call when you have something mean nothing, Walter?” Mike asked icily. 

“He told me what I need to do next,” Walt responded. “I just had to—”

“Don’t tell me you took a detour, Walter…” Mike’s voice was aggravated. “We’re running out of time here because we need to figure out what we tell the boss. We don’t have time for detours.”

“I’ll be at Jesse’s within the hour,” Walt answered, without confirming his suspicions. “We can catch up then on what Saul’s got.” He heard Mike’s sigh. “What?” he questioned. 

“The kid is driving me bonkers, Walter,” Mike answered stiffly. “The bitching and whining and crying.” He paused and Walt could envision him shaking his head. “And I know I didn’t find everything he’s got stashed away here but he won’t open his goddamn mouth.”

Walt sighed, casting his eyes down at Holly, who had fallen asleep on his shoulder. “Maybe he needs a nap.”

“What?” 

“Did it ever cross your mind that he’s in a six year old body…” Walter started slowly, “and he might just need a nap…” He paused. “Or food. We haven’t exactly been properly feeding him.”

“Food is a tough one considering the shit he has in the fridge. And freezer,” Mike answered. “Trust me, given that was one of the first places I checked for his stash… Nap we can try. Good point,” he admitted. 

Rarely had Walt received a compliment from Mike. He smirked but then let it slide without making a comment. “Do you still have him in the bathroom?”

“Of course.”

“Well, that’s probably one reason for his complaining, Mike. Don’t you think?” 

“I don’t take chances, Walter. What I can assure you when I get off this phone call is that his ass is exactly where I left him. How many times could you assure me that?”

Walt rolled his eyes. “Sure, Mike.”

“Alive, safe, minimal tears. That’s my motto, Walter.” 

“If it let’s you sleep at night, Mike, then by all means…” 

“Finish up what ever it is was too important to wait for, Walter, and get back here. You just had better be back before his nap is over,” Mike added. “And have some sort of next step.” He paused. “Preferably the latter.”

\------

Walt approached Jesse’s front door just within an hour since his conversation with Mike. He realized at that moment how exhausted he was. He couldn’t even think of getting back to cooking like an average day of work after all of this, though exactly that was the inevitable goal. While he couldn’t think of it, he had to. Their livelihood… Their lives… depended on it. Even if it meant doing it without Jesse. Temporarily… or permanently.

With a deep breath, he walked through the unlocked front door and was pleasantly surprised to not walk into a warzone. He hadn’t been sure what to expect. These days anything seemed possible. Considering the range of emotions and personalities involved as well as the lack of a scientific basis for most of their current problems, Walt’s imagination could run wild with possibilities. 

He wasn’t even sure finding an extraterrestrial being in front of him in Jesse’s living room would surprise him at this point. 

Thankfully he did not find any being of the sort. 

Walking into the house, he could hear the sound of a television with what sounded like the news playing at a low volume. Moving into the room further, he could see the back of Mike’s head where the man sat on the couch. It took only a moment for Mike to turn his head at the sound of footsteps. 

“So?” Mike asked. “What do we have, Walter?”

“Where is Jesse?” was Walt’s initial response. 

Mike raised an arm to point downward at the couch. “Out like a light.”

Walt slowly walked into the room and around the couch to see for himself. Sure enough Jesse was fast asleep, curled up on his side on the couch next to Mike. His knees were pulled up to his chest, arms loosely wrapped around himself. His breaths came deep and slow through a partially open mouth. 

Walt’s eyes shifted to Mike. “No handcuffs?”

“No handcuffs,” Mike acknowledged. “After much debate.”

Walt smirked. “Do I want to know?”

“I’ll spare you the details.”

Walt rolled his eyes. “Okay. Well. How long has he been asleep? I’ll tell you what Saul said, but I’d rather not repeat myself.” 

“Half hour,” Mike answered. He studied Walt for a moment and then reached over to grab the remote control from next to him. He muted the news and put down the controller. “We might as well hear it,” he said. He then gently put his hand on Jesse’s leg to shake him slightly. “Kid.”

“Maybe he should sleep more,” Walt began.

“No, let’s get this over with.” Mike shook Jesse a little harder, and the kid roused with a whimper, eyes still closed as he stretched out a bit, loosening from his fetal position into one that was a bit more relaxed. “Kid, you up? Open your eyes.”

“No…” Jesse murmured, inhaling a deep, tired breath. He stayed down on the couch cushion and looked inclined to fall back asleep shortly. 

Mike didn’t give him that opportunity, instead swiftly reaching to take a hold of the kid, pulling him up to a sitting position. As the kid appeared ready to flop back down again, Mike simply pulled him up onto his knee, holding him upright.

Jesse’s eyes opened then, and he scowled, arching his back to try to slide off of the man’s lap. “Let me go…”

“Hold on, Kid,” Mike answered, keeping a solid hold on Jesse’s waist and pulling him back into a secure position. “Let’s see what Walter has to say. Remember, he went to see Saul.”

Jesse’s lips curled as he sulked, blue eyes narrowed and brooding. But he stopped squirming and leaned back resignedly against Mike. “OK.” He gave Walt an expectant look. “What’d he say?”

Walt pressed his lips together briefly, eyeing Jesse uncertainly, feeling like his ‘update’ was not exactly the solution that Jesse and Mike seemed to be expecting. But it was all he had. 

Slowly, he reiterated what he had learned from Saul. It only took a couple minutes.

“That’s it?” came Mike’s initial response, a bit incredulous. “You’re gone for over an hour and that’s it?”

“It’s a lead,” Walt shot back curtly. 

“A lead,” Mike echoed. “A fucking lead.” He shook his head.

Jesse’s breathing had turned to quick, deep breaths. His chest rose and fell with the effort, and his small hands were clenched into fists. His face at the moment was stoic, his complexion pale. 

“Jesse…” Walt started slowly. “You okay?”

“Okay?” Jesse echoed in a small voice. “Am I okay?” He closed his eyes briefly and started to shake his head. “I’m not fucking okay.” His breathing continued to be deep, in and out. “I’m not.” 

“I told you. We have a lead,” Walt placated. “There is someone we can call to see what we can do next.”

Jesse’s deep breathing evolved rapidly into tears. “I don’t want to call someone. I want to be back to normal,” he whimpered piteously. He was trying to hold back the tears, gulping as he tried to swallow back the sobs without avail. His breathing was labored. “I want to go back to normal.”

“Jesse,” Walt spoke softly. “I know. We’re doing what we can.”

“Do more!” Jesse blubbered, voice shrill and insistent. 

Mike turned Jesse in his lap so he could see his face and shook him gently. “Kid. We know. But calm down…”

“I can’t,” Jesse choked out. “Let go.” He squirmed again, though half-heartedly. Tears fell freely now, though he still swallowed them back pathetically. His cheeks were flushed pink. He screwed his eyes shut tightly. 

“I won’t let go,” Mike said gently. “Kid, calm down.” 

Jesse said nothing, sniveling loudly. 

Walt felt a pang of anxiety as he watched Jesse’s breakdown. He felt helpless as he thought back on the words from Saul. 

“The right combination…” Walt said out loud. “Physical, psychological… Involving certain substances.” 

“What substances?” Mike asked. He kept a tight hold on Jesse’s hips as the kid continued to whimper with tears. 

“I don’t know,” Walt admitted. “But there has to be something to that.” He paused. “Jesse,” he spoke slowly. “Did you take anything before this happened?”

“I told you already,” Jesse grumbled, sniffling loud. He wiped the back of his hand across his eyes. 

“You smoked,” Walt answered. 

“Yeah.” Jesse now rubbed his dripping nose. “I smoked,” he admitted. “I told you.”

“I know, I know,” Walt admitted. He ran a hand over his head, sighing. “Anything else? Had you smoked that stuff before?”

“Yeah.” Jesse nodded. 

“That exact strain?”

“Strain?” Jesse frowned. He sniffled. “Like that specific stash? I mean, no. But I got it from the same place I always get it.”

“Where is it?” 

Jesse fidgeted and shrugged. “The guy?”

“No. The weed, Jesse,” Walt said stiffly. His patience was wearing. “Where’s the rest of the weed.”

“I don’t know, Mr. White,” Jesse responded with a scowl, loudly sniffling again though the tears had mostly diminished. “If I didn’t smoke it all then fucking Mike probably already fucking flushed it all… Remember? … Ow!” he hissed as the remark earned him a slap on his leg. 

“Enough lip, Kid...” Mike responded. 

“It’s the truth,” Jesse answered, tone insolent. “What about it’s not true?” 

Mike ignored him, eyes shifting to Walt. “You think this whole thing has something to do with weed?” he asked skeptically. “Why do I find it hard to believe...”

“Not just weed…” Walt responded. “Some combination. Jesse, did you take anything else?”

“I don’t know, Mr. White,” Jesse answered, shrugging. 

“How do you not know?”

“I don’t know!” Jesse answered. “I really don’t know! I remember feeling weird so I went to bed.”

“Think hard, Jesse. What else…? Anything else about that night?” Walt pushed. “We need every detail when we call this guy.” 

“I called you as soon as it happened,” Jesse answered. “I don’t know.”

“Any little detail you can think of…”

Jesse paused, brow furrowed as he thought back on that night, and the morning when he woke up. Fell out of bed. Terrified. He swallowed and then shook his head. “No… Except… It was a full moon.” He cleared his throat and leaned back against Mike’s chest in a relaxed gesture without even realizing it. “There was a big full moon.”

Walt met Mike’s eyes. 

“Mean anything, Walter?” Mike asked. 

Walt had no idea. No idea in the slightest. “It could mean something,” he bluffed. 

He wouldn’t know until they spoke to Saul’s contact. 

\-------


	18. Chapter 18

\-------

Walt made the phone call to Saul’s contact immediately.   
On initial interaction, the referred doctor didn’t give Walt much confidence. He had a similar aversion to talking on the phone as Saul himself. The doctor spoke in a low tone, in short sentences, almost cryptically like he thought someone was listening. However, while the conversation was brief it secured them a meeting at eight in the morning at a location that would be texted to him in advance. 

Walt found himself shaking his head as he got off the phone with the man. This was like living in a Twilight Zone. 

Walter relayed the result of the call to Jesse and Mike in few words, physically and mentally tired, when returning to Jesse’s living room from the kitchen where he had placed the call. 

“Yo, so let me get this straight… You don’t even know where we’re meeting this guy, Mr. White?” Jesse asked skeptically. 

“At the moment, no,” Walt admitted. He eyed the pair on the couch. Though now sitting on his own accord, Jesse remained close to Mike, slouched down in the seat beside him, almost leaning against his side. He looked tired. Mike had turned the TV back on and his eyes were on the news, not Walt. “But I will in the morning.”

“Your meetings today don’t seem to be producing much information, Walter…” Mike’s voice was equally as cynical as Jesse. His eyes remained on the television screen.

“Meeting,” Walt corrected. “I only had one meeting today. With Saul. The other meeting is tomorrow.”

Mike’s eyes moved to Walt now, and he frowned slightly. “What is this doctor’s name again?” He said ‘doctor’ somewhat sarcastically. 

Walt paused. “Dr. Thaddeus Dumont.”

“Stupid name,” Jesse muttered. 

Mike rolled his eyes at the kid and then returned his focus to Walt. “And you got the sense you could trust him, Walter?”

“He sounds like a character from a bad James Bond rip-off,” Jesse said, lips turning into a small smile. 

“Kid, forget the name…” Mike said patiently, nudging him with his elbow. “I don’t care about his name… Walt, think about what you know. How’d the guy sound?” He paused and then repeated his question. “Do you trust him?” 

Walt paused himself. Trust? How did he know what to trust? He could not even trust his own beliefs in science. He didn’t even fully trust Mike. “It’s the only choice we’ve got.” 

“There are always choices.” 

“Well, at the moment, this is the only one presenting itself…” Walt answered stiffly. “Unless we do nothing.”

Mike sighed, shaking his head slowly. “Listen, Walter… Tomorrow I’ve got to sort out our explanation to the boss as to why you aren’t cooking despite the lab reopening…” He glanced down at Jesse at his side momentarily. “This means I can’t join you in your excursion to meet the Doc.” He dropped his hand gently onto Jesse’s head. “That means you and the Kid do this without me. So tell me. You trust this guy?”

“Like I said,” Walt answered slowly, watching Jesse scowl and try to bat Mike’s hand away from his head. “There isn’t an alternative choice at the moment.” 

Mike pressed his lips together tightly, a tight line. He didn’t like that response. “Well. Obviously you’ll take protection.”

“Protection,” Jesse echoed with a smirk. He glanced up to catch Mike’s glare and quickly returned to being sullen. 

“You mean a gun?” Walt asked slowly. “I don’t know, Mike. That might be the first thing this nut checks for…”

“Are you calling the doctor a ‘nut’?” Mike raised his eyebrows.

“You know what I mean. This isn’t a conventional doctor.”

“Unconventional is different than being a nut, Walter…”

“True,” Walt admitted. “But perhaps sometimes it is a fine line.”

“You want me to come along?”

“Thought you couldn’t? Besides…. We can handle it.” Walt bristled slightly at the lack of faith Mike suddenly seemed to have in him handling this next step. It was a meeting, with a doctor, and one who had apparently dealt with something like this before. Sure it was crazy, but the whole situation was crazy. Why would figuring out the solution be any different?

“And you, Kid?” Mike asked. At no response, he elbowed Jesse, who was now staring at the TV listlessly. “You listening?

“I don’t care,” Jesse answered and shrugged his shoulders. “He can be a nut if he knows how to fix this.” 

Mike sighed. “You should care…” 

“As long as he makes me normal. Then I don’t care.” 

“So you won’t do anything stupid?”

“Stupid?” Jesse echoed, tilting his head to glare up at Mike. “Like what?”

“Like a repeat of any of your stunts the last couple of days?” Mike answered tersely.

Jesse rolled his eyes, scowling in response. “Whatever.”

Mike nudged him with his elbow again. “I mean it, Kid.”

“Yo, the last couple of days haven’t exactly been that great for me either…”

“Regardless…” Mike continued. “No running away. No hiding. No new problems. Got it? There’s only so much I can do with the current situation. And if I’m not there… even less… So I don’t need a phone call that there is something new to worry about the minute I leave the two of you.” 

“We can handle it,” Walt repeated. 

Mike didn’t seem convinced. He gave Walt a stony stare, but said nothing. 

Walt cleared his throat. “Listen. It’s getting late. It’s been a long day. Jesse, we’ve got to get back to my condo, and – ”

“Wait. What?” Jesse objected. He sat up straighter, brow furrowing. 

Before he could protest further, Walt continued obliviously, “And you’ve got to eat.” He paused. “Something at least. And then—”

“I don’t wanna go to your condo,” Jesse interrupted. “Why can’t we stay here, Mr. White?”

Walt scrubbed a hand over his face and then across his head, frustrated and tired. “Jesse…” he sighed. He shook his head. “Jesse, I’m not having this argument.”

“No, that’s not fair, Mr. White.” Jesse shook his head. “We’re already here.”

“Need I remind you… You have nothing here. There’s nothing to eat here.”

“Not hungry.”

Walt eyed him warily. “Fine. Don’t eat.” He knew letting the kid go hungry wouldn’t help anyone but didn’t want to argue. They would battle that stage when they got there. This was more about small steps at this point. “You have clothes at my place.”

“I have clothes here.”

“Clothes that fit, Jesse,” Walt answered shortly. “And I have my own clothes at my place.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes briefly. “That’s it. I’m not discussing this further with you. Let’s go.” He walked towards the couch and watched as Jesse recoiled from him, curling himself into Mike’s side, his eyes squeezed shut as if that would make everything around him disappear. 

“No.” Jesse shook his head. “I’m staying here.”

Walt gave Mike a callous look as he felt the man’s eyes on him. Mike’s expression was amused, a small smirk on his face. He didn’t seem to mind the sudden clinginess of the kid. 

“Thought you could ‘handle it’, Walter,” Mike said simply.

Walt wanted to curse at him but held his tongue. He wished he were back on his couch, alone, watching James Bond movies contently as he had been when Jesse first called him for help. 

“I can stay with Mike…” Jesse offered, eyes still closed. 

“Nope,” Mike answered quickly. “Sorry, Kid. Not an option. Work it out with Walter. I’ve got my own mess to deal with in the morning.” He pushed himself up from the couch and Jesse uncurled from him. He leaned down to pick up the controller from the coffee table and turned off the television. 

Jesse leaned back into the couch cushion resolvedly, eyeing the two men in front of him in the now quiet house. “Someone can pick me up in the morning.”

Mike chuckled to himself. “This is a fun conversation,” he said good-naturedly, “but I’ll leave you two to the power struggles. Call or text me as soon as you have the location in the morning.” He took a step away and then paused, turning back to lay a serious look onto Walt. “I recommend taking the handcuffs…” 

“No,” Jesse responded irritably, glaring at Mike.

Mike raised his eyebrows. He mused over Jesse for a moment and then with a quick nod to them walked away and made his way out the front door. 

Walt listened to the sound of the front door close and took a look at Jesse. The kid had a determined look on his face, jaw set in opposition to whatever Walt was going to suggest. 

Without another word Walt closed his distance to the couch, grabbed Jesse’s arm, and yanked him to his feet off the couch with a strong pull. Jesse stumbled at first on his feet after the movement, and then looked up at Walt with a mix of frustration and surprise at the man’s sudden firmness. 

“Mr. White,” he started to object. He pulled at his arm but his old teacher maintained a strong grip on his forearm. He scowled. “That hurts.”

“We are leaving. So help me, Jesse…” Walt said in a low voice. “If you say another word we are taking the handcuffs with us…”

Jesse fell silent. The limited time locked up in the bathroom had been enough for him. He narrowed his eyes, but kept his mouth shut. 

“Don’t fight me,” Walt persisted. “It won’t end well.”

Jesse continued to glare. He had little choice in this position. He knew it. 

“Ready to go?” Walt asked. 

Jesse sighed. “Fine.”

\-------

Walt had been up since five thirty. Not due to his own effort. 

The earlier part of the evening was less stressful than Walt originally anticipated. It was aided by the fact that Jesse was exhausted and had little resistance left in him. He was instead hopeful that perhaps during the following day they would get some answers. So they ate Chinese takeout in piece, watched an hour of television with comfortable small talk, and then mutually decided it was time for bed as they both found their eyes closing involuntarily. 

It was at five thirty that Walt found Jesse grabbing his arm, shaking him awake.

“Mr. White…”

“What?” Walt woke immediately, panicked, taking in the moment. His initial reaction was to sit up and scramble for his glasses on the side table. “Are you hurt? Where?” 

“No,” came Jesse’s response, voice small. “Are you wake, Mr. White?”

Walt let out a deep breath, digesting the moment as he heard Jesse’s response. While he was a) relieved Jesse wasn’t hurt, b) relieved nothing was on fire, and c) relieved there was no other evident emergency, he was then instead filled with fatigue, annoyance, and impatience. “Yes, Jesse. Yes. I am obviously awake.”

Jesse’s hand remained on his arm. “Mr. White, I had a dream and – ”

“You had a nightmare?” Walt interrupted. He took a deep breath, willing himself to be patient.

“No,” Jesse objected, frowning. “No, Mr. White. I had a dream.” He stressed the word.

“Okay…” 

“And I was thinking…” Jesse’s hand gripped Walt’s arm tighter. 

“It’s…” Walt, now a minute more lucid, looked at the clock on his nightstand. “Half past five, Jesse.”

“What if he has to do something…” Jesse paused, searching for the words. “Yo… What if he has to… do something that I don’t want him to do?”

“Who?” Walt frowned. 

“The doctor…” Jesse said earnestly. “What if he has to—”

“Don’t speculate, Jesse,” Walt cut him off. “We already decided that this is the plan. We’re going to go see him. We’ll see what he says.”

“What if he needs to do something to me?”

“Did you have a nightmare about this?”

“A dream,” Jesse corrected. 

Walt studied him for a moment and could see the glint of fear in his eyes. He couldn’t blame him. Going to a doctor to address a problem was never a very easy thing to do. Going to a doctor they had never been to that had been recommended by Saul of all people… Well, his concern was understandable.

“Jesse, I’ve been to tons of doctors,” Walt said slowly. “I’ve had more procedures than I would have preferred. It ends up okay. The important thing to remember is that the doctor is trying to help.”

“But Mr. White… You called him a nut.”

Walt sighed. “That was really more in response to the situation, Jesse.” Jesse was still gripping his arm tightly. “I don’t even know the doctor yet.”

“Mr. White, I know. That’s the issue. What if he really is a nut?”

Walt shook his head. “Can you go back to sleep, Jesse?” 

Jesse’s expression turned incredulous. “I know it’s early in the morning, Mr. White, but can you honestly not tell me that it hasn’t crossed your mind that…. That this whole thing is crazy and – ”

“Jesse. Stop. Just… stop.” Walt removed Jesse’s hand from his arm and then leaned forward and reached out to hold Jesse by the shoulders. “Listen to me. It’s going to be fine. We’re going to figure this out, and we’ll get you back to normal.” He shook him gently. “Understand?”

Jesse nodded though seemed a bit skeptical. 

Walt squeezed him by the shoulders. “You’re not going to go back to sleep, are you...” he said it more as a statement than a question. 

“I can’t,” Jesse whispered back. 

Walt closed his eyes briefly before opening them to again glance at the clock. Five thirty five. “Okay.” He let go of Jesse and briefly ran a hand over his face. There was no point in trying to force him. And he couldn’t get mad over something like this. In fact he should be happy that Jesse was coming to him rather than looking for another outlet. “I’ll make coffee.”

He didn’t miss the small smile and look of relief that passed over Jesse’s face. 

\-----------

The address was texted to him at seven in the morning. 

Walt couldn’t deny a small sense of fear himself as he read the address to Jesse and then sent a quick text message to Mike with the location. 

“There’s nothing over there,” Jesse said with a frown. His hands were shaking slightly. Walt didn’t know if it was the two cups of coffee he’d allowed him to have or fear. “At that address.”

“That’s the location he gave me, Jesse.” Walt’s phone buzzed and he looked down in time to see the response ‘okay’ come back from Mike. “The good news is we’ll have no problem getting there by eight. You want to wash up?”

“I used to deal over there.”

Walt shot him a pointed look.

“Yo – I said used to!” Jesse objected.

“Enough.”

Jesse swallowed and then took a deep breath. “You’re not nervous?”

“No, Jesse,” Walt lied. “This feels right.” It did not feel right. “Hurry up and get washed up and dressed.”

\---------


End file.
